False Alarm
by StardustIsMagic
Summary: Being Kamata's most prized and sought after Hitman came with its set backs, but Han just wanted to know what a twenty-five-year-old girl would find enticing about it to begin with. Han/OC Pre-Tokyo Drift. Rated M for murder, sex etc.
1. Chapter 1

_she'll always leave the man she loves_

_she'll always be alone_

_it's a dark philosophy_

_and it haunts her constantly_

_she's a false alarm_

* * *

She always wore the same thing when on the job, her black knee-high boots and jeans were originally part of a plan to remain inconspicuous when she had started out. It was easier to blend into the large crowds on the streets of Tokyo that way. Among the underground, however, it had become a signature look. A warning bell for whomever she was coming for.

Her leather jacket was left open, the bandolier was strapped tightly to her shoulders, allowing easy access to her silencers. Her wild curls were slicked back tightly to be put in a low bun, large black hood partially shielding her head and her light brown eyes.

She walked into the rundown hotel lobby, heading towards the small reception desk where an old and tubby man currently sat. He'd stopped chewing his instant ramen as he noticed her, realising who she was. He felt her gaze for several moments, deliberating whether to hand over the keys or not. Her silence unnerved him, and he realised no amount of stories could prepare him for ever coming across the real thing.

Her demeanour was of formidability, and dread. He knew, now, why she had been graced with the title Shinigami. God of Death. He looked away from her briefly, taking in a slow breath. When it came to being killed by a mob boss, or being killed by her, he knew what he would rather choose.

Reaching for the draw of room keys beneath his desk, he pulled it open, withdrawing the keys with a door number attached. Placing it on the counter, he slid it towards her.

'He has the floor and staircase covered.'

She nodded once, gloved hands taking the keys, and placing them into her back pocket. She pulled one of her guns out of its holster, and turned her head away from him, towards the staircase doors.

'Before you leave, you will do one thing.' Her voice was monotonous and cold, and he wasted no time abiding by her order.

* * *

Four men in suits dotted the hallway of the sixth floor. Two on either side of room 64, another by the stairway entrance, and another by the lift. The discussions that had surrounded them prior to taking the job had left them on edge, and like most, their boss had dismissed the rumours as just that. Rumours. Besides, he hadn't heard of her taking on eight trained security guards before. No woman was that strong.

The elevator made a pinging sound, alerting all four men on the floor of who exactly was on their way up. They simultaneously reached for their guns, starting towards the elevator. Readying their aim in silence, the anticipation made their grip shake slightly. The intake of breath was audible as the elevator reached their floor, and another ping resonating through the sixth floor as the doors chimed open. Their aim pointed towards it and ready to fire at her.

It was empty. And the man closest to the lift placed a free hand on the doors to keep them from closing, poking his head in with his gun still aimed inside. The three behind him inched closer, as if she would still jump out from the lift.

He looked back to his colleagues, confusion etched into his wrinkled features. 'She's not here.'

Akimatsa, their leader, reached for the HT he had on his waist. 'Zu, is the stairway clear?'

He received static in response, and the seconds following where tense as he raised his voice. 'I said is the stairway fucking clear?!'

'We've been compromised.'

The lights of the entire floor shut off, and the panic set in quickly at being suddenly blinded by the dark.

'Stay on guard! She's switched off the power.'

'Do we know what we're dealing with her?!'

'Should could be anywhere!'

'I said stay on guard! Keep your mouths sh-'

His orders were cut short by the faint sound of her silencer.

'Akimasa!'

'She must have come from the stairwell!'

Shots were fired off at random, blindly, their eyes still attempting to adjust to darkness. She crouched on the floor, using her hearing to track their movements as her eyes attempted to focus in the dark. Closest to her, on her right, there was shuffling by door 64. She aimed, the bullet in her silencer collide with his head.

She had counted the seconds since the lights had been shut off, ninety seconds before the backup generator would kick in and re-illuminate the hotel. She stood and moved to the opposite wall, her breathing soft and calm, prepared to alter any plans.

She stood directly behind man number three, shooting him in the head and letting him fall to the floor. The youngest, by the elevator was all that was left, and folded himself into the corner. Awaiting any signs of movement.

'Daisuke?! Eichii?!' His voice was panicked, hands shaking. If she had been anyone else, she would have pitied him.

The generator lights tight on, illuminating the hallway in a red glow. His eyes refocused, zeroing in on the her across the hall. He raised his gun, but his finger didn't make it to the trigger before a bullet landed between his eyes.

* * *

Hiteo Yakamura had been repeatedly told one thing when entering the workings of the underworld, something he'd kept in the back of his mind, but had begun to take with a grain of salt the more comfortable he had gotten. Greed can change a man, many say, and until the last week he had found it a laughable statement.

Do not displease Kamata. Do not steal from him. Do not lie to him. Do not betray him.

The stories of the Shinigami had always been the equivalent of urban legend among the men who had worked for Yakuza. No one who had crossed Kamata had ever seen her and lived, it had always been stories. From a friend of an acquaintance. She could not be bought, could not be turned by the highest paying customer. The only things he knew about her for certain was that she had two laws. She only served Kamata, and she had own personal hit list. One, if rumours were true, that she had been accumulating since the age of thirteen.

He sat on the bed of his worn hotel room, flinching at the sound of each gunshot. Dread encompassing his stomach until it choked on his breathing. He knew his fate, yet still he gripped onto his gun, pointing it at the closed front door. The yelling continued for a few moments, and dramatically ceased. His room once again had light, but the generators were weak in the place like this. It was just enough to see the shadow of two foot at the foot of his door.

Instinctively, he fired several gunshots, unloading his pistol with a carelessness of a man who knew his end was inevitable. Sweat beaded at his forehead, his breathing becoming laboured. One bullet remained, he'd wait until she opened the door.

A soft, cool breeze filtered into the room. Cooling his skin, and for several moments his mind barely registered the meaning of feeling the wind on his back. The balcony doors. He hadn't checked to see if it was locked.

He turned, gun gripped tightly in his hand, ready to raise and aim. But it was too late. The end of her silencer rested directly against his forehead. Still slightly warm from her firing a recent shot. She was taller than he expected, coming to reach the same height as him, her hood partially shielding her face, the dimness of the room hiding her features.

He dropped the gun, raising both hands in surrender and sank to his knees. No longer surprised with how quickly and silently she had infiltrated his room.

'You carry your title well.'

She said nothing, and he assumed she was simply staring at him.

'May I at least be given the courtesy of seeing the face of my executioner?' His voice was tired, but a small chuckle escaped his lips.

To his surprise, she complied, and used her free hand to pull her hood back. Her grip on her pointed gun never wavering, and was unnervingly steady. She was younger than he expected, light large eyes that he could just barely make out, slim nose and plump lips. If he had crossed her on the street, he would have brushed her off as innocent looking young adult. A Child.

He nodded in respect, closing his eyes.

She pulled the trigger.

* * *

Her phone rang at a time too early to be pleased about it, she reached out from underneath her duvet, feeling around the nightstand for it.

'You woke me up.' Her voice was deep, laced with sleep.

'It's three in the afternoon.' DK said sarcastically. Voice gruff.

'Please refer back to my original point.'

'Uncle said know you need your car looked at.'

Irritation instantly slipped into her tone, 'I texted you about that three days ago.'

'I've been busy.' DK's tone was clipped, but she could perfectly imagine the smug smirk he would have on his face at that moment.

Pushing the duvet off her, she sat up in bed. Her black sheets tangled around her. She squinted as the sun streamed through her windows. 'Doing what? Playing gangster monopoly in your little storage room?'

'Do you want that car looked at or not?' He spat out petulantly.

For Fi, dealing with DK was like having to hand over your toys to your screaming little brother.

'Yes, but I have a job tonight, so it'll need to be after.'

She heard yelling and laughter in the background on his side, followed a bark of orders from DK for them to shut up. 'My business partner owns a repairs garage, stop by after your job and he can take a look. I'll be there.'

'Alright, text me the address.' She was about to hang up until DK piped up again.

'And Fi?'

'What?'

He hesitated for a moment. 'Make sure you're cleaned up.' And hung up.

Sophia put her phone down back on the nightstand, pulling the duvet back over her head. Unwilling to face the world just yet.

She knew what DK had meant.

_Don't have any blood on you. _

* * *

**Hiii, so this is a new story. I'm still refining the details of the story, but it's pre Tokyo Drift storyline. I'm trying something a little different with it . . . I think it's obvious that Sophia is massively inspired by Colombiana, Arya Stark and O-Ren Ishii in Kill Bill. **

**If you like it, please drop a review! Greatly appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

_all red dress with the devil eyes_

_you love her but you can't deny the truth_

_she's a false alarm_

* * *

The garage DK had spoken of was particularly well hidden, despite being in the heart of Tokyo. From her guess, it served more than just a race car repair joint. customised Nissan's and Evo's littered the street as she drove in, leggy models and men in knock off shades filtered in and out of a bar. When DK had told her he'd had a business partner, she didn't assume he'd be smart enough to find someone well connected enough outside of Kamata's circle. The man appeared to own the entire street. It was busy despite being past 3AM, and didn't imagine it letting up anytime soon.

Fi parked her car just outside of the garage, the shutters were completely up. Her plain black Maserati was trashed, the drivers side door was caved it. The bumper had crumbled off. Her recent job a few hours ago had involved her having the chase after her target. His Escalade hadn't been kind to her car, and cause them both to collide in a minor crash off the road. DK was going to be pissed, not that she particularly cared. The break lights were smashed, and it stuck out like a sore thumb among the elaborate paint jobs of the ones surrounding her.

Before stepping out, she checked her appearance. Per DK's request she'd gone home and taken a shower before making her way there, she still had visible injuries on her bare face. A gash just above her eyebrow was still fresh, and a scrape across her chin was still stinging from the anti-septic cleanser she'd used on it. She undoubtedly have a bruised eye in the morning. Her tight curls framed her face and settled just past her shoulders, she had to thank Amazon's large list of leave-in deep conditioners for that. Her black shirt was tucked into belted, blue jeans. The least dirtiest clothing found in her apartment.

Car keys in hand she pulled on her leather jacket, hiding her pistol tucked into the back of her jeans. Walking into the brightly lit garage, the soft sound of music met her ears. Race cars surrounded her on the ground floor, but was clear of any people. The party was just a floor above, up a set of stairs. Couches and decorated bunkbeds were scattered across the place. A bar was hidden at the corner, the guests seemed to be helping themselves. A DJ deck had also appeared to have been set up. Tall women, Fi assumed models, outnumbered the amount of men in the loft. DK's friend appeared to have multiple VIP stages.

No one seemed to pay her any heed as she made her way up the steps, to Fi it seemed almost expected for people to wander in or out of the garage. Security was appalling lax in this building.

She spotted DK sat on a couch beside his friend and lackey, Morimoto. They nursed bottles of beers while a group of women sat around them, laughing. Across from their small table sat another gentleman, hair reaching just above his chin. She walked towards them, her eyes connecting with DK's as he heard the footsteps of her boots approaching. his eyes darkened as he took in her face, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. She stood in silence as she waited in front of him, watching as he motioned the girls to leave.

'You look like you could use a drink.' He said dryly, leaning back in his seat as Morimoto smirked.

'I'm not staying.' Fi replied, 'I have things to do. Here are the keys. It's parked outside.' His free hand caught her set of keys she threw in his direction.

'This is Han, my colleague.' He said, his head nodding towards the male sat across from him. 'His team will be the one repairing it.'

The man DK spoke of, Han, nodded in greeting to Fi. Face passive as her sipped on his beer with one hand, and chewed on a poki with the other. If she wasn't so good at assessing people's features, she would of missed the slight tilt of the corner of his lips as he took in her face. He observed her in a way that made it seem like there was something amusing about her. It irked her a little.

'I'm not sure what's wrong with it engine wise. It's been dying on me at random intervals for the past two weeks. There's external damage to the drivers side door, bumper, tail lights and and break lights.'

'Nice to meet you too.' he responded, voice flat. 'I'll have it done by the end of the week.'

Fi nodded in thanks, turning back to DK and reaching her hand out. 'Give me your keys, I have another job I need to get to.'

DK raised his brow at Fi's request, 'you have other cars.'

'I have other cars, but I requested your car.'

They engaged a silent stare for a few moments, Fi's gaze unwavering. She found it pretty ballsy that DK was so bold towards her, but then he'd known her since she was nine. It was difficult to take someone seriously, especially when they tried to be intimidating, when you'd seen them cry countless times while growing up. He scowled, muttering under his breath as he reached into his pocket. Morimoto snickered while Han looked on at the exchange with a raised brow. He'd never heard of this person until DK brought her up today, and they appeared to be well acquainted. Fi took the keys from him, mumbling a thank you towards him as she put them into her pocket.

'That's my favourite Nissan, don't destroy it like you did yours.'

'I promise you I will treat your princess as delicately as possible.' A tight, sarcastic smile spread across her lips. It caused DK to let out a short chuckle.

He looked at the gashes and scrapes on her face once more, tone taking on one of seriousness. 'You okay?'

'Minor accident. I'm fine.' She reassured, despite it sounding as if he cared, she didn't need it getting back to Kamata. Injuries made her look incompetent.

She turned her back, walking away from the group of men.

Han waited until she was out of earshot, taking a swig of his beer and looking back to DK with a knowing smirk on his face. 'Was that who I think it was?'

DK leaned forward, placings his forearms on his knees, placing his chin on his intertwined hands. 'Where were we?' He asked, uncaring of his blatant attempt to deflect the question.

'They let non-japs into the Yakuza now?' Han continued, tone hinting at amusement and disbelief.

'Half Japanese, half Colombian. She's not Yakuza, but she earned her spot.'

DK spoke somewhat defensively about her, and Han's brow raised once more before he was given a look that indicated the conversation was very much closed and off limits. From Han's experience, DK always became skittish and defensive when the subject of his Uncle, or his business came up in conversation. His reaction had been enough to clarify his initial theory about who he'd just met. He'd just been introduced to Tokyo's very own Shinigami, one of the most feared hitmen that operated in Japan. It was inevitable, he expected to have crossed paths at some point during his time in Tokyo. What he hadn't expected, however, was for it to be a young girl barely in her twenties. Han took another swig of his beer, enjoyed playing with things that he found perplexing. Luckily for him she'd have to return to retrieve her car.

* * *

**A short chapter, but I'm attempting to distribute them properly so that what's in each chapter remains the same tone. Next chapter you'll get to learn more about Fi.**

**Thanks for reading! Please r&r!**


	3. Chapter 3

_i was good on my own and that's the way it was_

_didn't they tell you that i was a savage? _

_fuck your white horse on a carriage_

* * *

Kamata relaxed in his seat, the VIP room of his club and casino was dimly lit, and it was surrounded by blood red velvet couches. His council members of the Yakuza surrounded the table he sat at. The cigar smoke was visible in the room, with no open windows or doors to assist in filtering out, save for the vents. The once jovial and light atmosphere that had been present within the room had evaporated, the poker game abandoned, the room was now tense. His position as the Head of the Yakuza was not met without challenge and questioning, especially when decisions were influenced by his favourite by his favourite hitman.

'You're letting that . . . illegitimate _fiend_ take the lead?' Tarou responded, his cigar hanging from his fingers, forgotten.

Kamata let out a short, and humourless chuckle. 'She has been monitoring the new commissioner since he stepped foot into office, she is the most familiar with his routine. Who he talks to, who drives him, who he trusts. Regardless of that knowledge, only she is best for the job.'

'She is _best_ for jobs that require small, inconsequential hand washing, and below the work of our own members.' Tarou spat, his nostrils began to flare.

As a man of tradition, and coming from a long lineage of council members, his family roots within the organisation could date back to its original founding. When retired, his first born would succeed him, as every male member of the family had done. Rubbing at his beard, which he did in times of stress and annoyance, he then slammed his fist down onto the table. The bourbon in his glass rippled.

'The execution of the new Commissioner is intended as a statement of who we are. Our power and our reign of this city, this country and having her-'

'Our men are well versed in messy shootouts and kidnapping. The death of Commissioner Nakamura must evidently emphasise our power, yes, but idiots such as ours are unable to comprehend how to do this without eradicating any evidence or proof of it being physically linked to us. She is fast, she is intelligent, and she moves as if she were a ghost.'

'This is-'

'She will execute the plan, Tarou, as if it was after all her plan. If you oppose it, please present her with your doubts. She's sat outside.'

Tarou's silence was deafening, as were the rest of the members present at the table.

'Does anyone else object?'

Kamata received mumbled 'no, sir's' and head shakes. Tarou fixed him with a glare piercing enough to make a young man quiver, but held no affect on Kamata.

'Then our meeting is adjourned.'

Tarou drained the last of his drink, slamming it back onto the poker table and pushing back his chair violently. It slammed onto the floor, and he made no indication of lifting it back up as he stalked out of the VIP room, his two henchmen flanking him as he left the double doors wide open.

* * *

'I guess you're dragging me along to this meeting so that your uncle can scope me out and intimidate me into making sure I never cross him, huh?'

Takeshi rolled his eyes at Han, nodding towards the doorman of his Uncle's club as they stepped in. The music hummed lowly as a few staff members readied the bar for their opening hours in the evening, a few henchmen littered about.

'You're operating your business on his land, he needs to know you're trust worthy.'

'And you didn't vouch me brother? I'm hurt.' Han feigned mock hurt as he placed a hand on his chest lazily, earning a small smirk from Takeshi. It was difficult to make the brooding child laugh.

'My word can only be taken so far, Uncle prides himself on being a good sense of character.'

A gunshot echoed in the building, making Han startle and Takeshi pace speed up just a little towards the bar in the VIP lounge, Tarou was up ahead of them, his security hounding him as they muttered and he yelled angrily. Blood was dripping from his hand. Takeshi bowed in greeting, but Tarou and his security pushed by him, suit jacket wrapped around his hand while his blood dripped on the floor.

The rest of the council members and their security followed shortly after, mumbling quietly between them and nodding in acknowledgement to Takeshi. He sighed, already beginning to summarise what had likely occurred.

'That happen everyday?'

Takeshi ignored Han as he begun walking again and as suspected, upon walking into the lounge, he found Sophia sat at the bar, one exposed leg crossed over the other sipping on a martini. Pistol placed on the bar in front of her.

Her hair was out, tight curls cascading down her shoulders, dressed in a plain black dress that reached just above her knees. A slit down her thigh revealed her light brown skin.

'What were you told about using your gun in here?' Takeshi said loudly, like a brother to their younger sibling as he walked towards her. Han silently observing.

'Not to.' She replied flatly.

He sighed, watching her take another sip before placing her drink down.

'He called me a half-breed.'

A moment of silence and understanding passed between the two, one that Han felt like he was intruding on. Takeshi nodded softly, before signalling to the barman for a drink. Sophia turned to Han, her fingers drumming on the glass countertop as she directed her question to him.

'When can I pick up my car?'

'Whenever you want?' He said nonchalantly, taking a seat on the stool on the other side of Takeshi and breaking eye contact between them. She had an intense look.

'You mean you've already finished repairing it?' She leaned on the counter in order to look at him, an eyebrow raised towards him.

'She's been fixed for a few days now.' Han shrugged, enjoying the way her dark eyes calculatedly stared at him. Attempting to figure him out. He was toying with her, and she knew it.

Sophia thought he was quite bold for someone wanted for such petty thievery in several countries. All involving cars. She'd done the background check for Kamata, he was harmless. So she assumed he was behaving this way with her out of boredom, and - it seemed - he liked playing with fire.

She assumed he was the type to get what he wanted, whether that be women or money, his quick alliance with Takeshi was proof of that. He wasn't anything particularly remarkable to look at, though. He was shabby looking, with his lack of trimmed hair, and wearing cargo pants at all hours, occasionally jeans if he had to smarten up, like what he wore right now to meet Kamata. He had a lazy attitude, one that exuded this type of nonchalance and confidence that an eighteen year old would find attractive. Sophia just found it unoriginal.

'Well then go and get it.' He blinked twice before realising she meant now, at that second.

He looked to Takeshi for some verbal form of backup, but all he received was a shrug. 'Go and get it.'

'I'm just about to meet your uncle,' he said in defence.

'I'm about to go in and discuss business, we'll be a while. You'll have plenty of time to go pick it up, and dress in something less . . . informal while you're at it.'

He wanted to laugh, she'd been both demanding and insulting in the space of one minute. Her voice had remained low and tone deadpan as she had spoken to, as if she no longer felt anything. He wondered, in her profession, how much of herself she had actually erased in order to not be affected by what she did. The smirk Takeshi had indicated that he was enjoying the exchange, mostly because he knew that Sophia would win. She always won.

Han shrugged, getting up from his stool.

'Yes sir.'

* * *

**Hiii! I squeezed in one more interaction with Han and Sophia, just because in the next chapter it's going to focus on Sophia and only her. I'm really keen to show more action scenes of her in her work. Thanks for all the reviews so far, please write more! **


	4. Chapter 4

_what a waste of a pretty face _

_what a waste _

_that face, that face _

_don't do what i should _

_i'm too cheap for you to own me_

_no one ever could_

* * *

'Is this one of the drivers again?'

Sophia picked up the file Kamata had slid across the table to her, opening it to browse through the name and background of her next target. A man in his seventies, active member of the Chinese mafia. She recognised him.

'He knew your father. He will be in Okinawa next week.'

Sophia looked back up to Kamata, face free of expression and difficult to read, but he knew her well enough to know the fire that was burning in the pit of her stomach. She had a photo of a younger looking version of him in her office in her apartment, along with sixty-five other men and women.

'My source let me know that he is meeting an official from Interpole. Most likely to hand in more information about his organisation.'

'Why didn't you just feed that back to the Chinese mafia? Surely they'd like to handle the traitor themselves.'

'How does that help you?'

He was right. Sophia was playing a long game, she wanted to dismantle and topple the entirety of the Chinese mafia and the Japanese and Chinese police force. All of whom had set up her father as a double agent, thinking he would assist in eradicating the Yakuza. One of them had leaked the information, and the someone had failed to extract him to safety in time. She didn't entirely know who, nor did she care. All three organisations were responsible.

'Your father knew the risks, Sophia.'

'He did it for you.' She countered, her tone soft, but eyes dangerous.

'Which is why you are here, in my care. I think of you as if you were my own, you know this.'

She nodded in acknowledgement, it was a conversation they had had many times. Since she was a child, sitting in his home, the dried blood of her father and his mistress, her mother, still on her clothes and skin. Sophia witnessed everything. From the moment her fathers throat had been slit, to them hanging her mother. She'd only asked once, but he'd promised her - there and then - at thirteen years old, that he would not rest until everyone responsible was dead by her hand.

'When can I leave?'

'After you've taken care of the Commissioner. Have you run over the plan?'

'To the point where I could recite it backwards. He'll be at the Hilton on Thursday for an awards ceremony, I've got the cameras tapped, Asuma has assisted me in that. I have floor plans and staff rotas for the evening.'

Kamata nodded as Sophia spoke, she leaned back in her seat, feigning confidence. She had him fooled. In reality, this was her first high profile assignment and it needed to go as perfect as any job could ever go. There could be no camera footage, no witnesses about who the hitman was. She functioned as a ghost in the criminal underworld. Her nickname was known, not her face.

'They'll be expecting something.'

'Something subtle.' She corrected, 'A crowd member outside pointing a gun, a waiter faking their identity and attempting to poison his meal.'

Kamata chuckled, 'you thought of that as an option?'

'Poison is a cowards weapon, besides, the waiting staff go through in-depth screening and only those who have been with the company for over a decade are permitted to work the ceremony.'

'So how will you get in?'

Sophia smirked, 'by being invisible.'

Sometimes, Kamata thought, he was sure that she could be his daughter by blood.

'Do not fail me, Sophia.'

* * *

The difficulty in being a hitman, and needing disguises, was the fact that Sophia was only half Japanese. She discovered this at sixteen: her first kill. Her skin was a light brown, and her hair grew in tight curls, making her stand out amongst other Japanese citizens within crowds. Eye witnesses loved to the point out the only black girl within a crowd, despite her facial features indicating her Japanese ethnicity, and so she'd had to rethink a lot about how she moved. Wigs helped, but in order to be completely invisible, she operated at night. The Commissioners ceremony took place in the early evening, so she compromised.

Weeks prior to the event she had studied the blueprints of the Hilton Hotel, the venting systems, and its width. Luckily, for her, they were large enough to fit someone of her size.

'Asuma, soundcheck?' Sophia mumbled. She wore an extravagantly large black sunhat. A wig of straight black hair beneath it and sunglasses. The ensemble shielded her a majority of her face.

'Loud and clear, Wonder Woman.' It was a nickname the teen had adopted for her as a joke.

Her heels made audible sounds as she stepped out of the black service car, the driver meeting her on her side to give her her suitcase.

'You're visible on camera four, approaching main entrance.' Asuma said, 'Damn, that dress is doing wonders for your legs.'

'Focus, kiddo.'

In order to blend in, Sophia had dressed as expensively as she needed to. Black Louboutin's matched her thigh-high long-sleeved dress. Her coat hanging off her left arm, along with her handbag.

'Keep your head pointed slightly down . . . that's too low . . . better.' Asuma was a sixteen year old student Sophia had found, shortly after he had hacked the Mayors home computer and had attempted to blackmail him.

Kamata had been hired to find whomever had done so, which had fallen onto Sophia's shoulders. What she had expected was an overweight and bitter former colleague displeased with how his job had ended. What she had found was a kid who had thought it may be kind of funny, and had to pay his sick mothers bills and feed his little sister. Instead of killing him, she gave him a job. He was the best hacker in Tokyo, and hadn't failed her thus far in infiltrating confidential security cameras and erasing footage. All from the comfort of his own home.

'You're in the lobby, approaching.' He spoke to confirm her movement, as she now was surrounded by too many people to verbally respond.

Sophia checked in, providing a false credit card to leave behind the desk. She needn't Room 35, first floor. The lobby was buzzing with staff and security, a long with police members monitoring their movements. They handled trolleys of cutlery and plates, heading in one direction; the main events hall. From the corner of Sophia's eye, as she waited for the elevator, she could make out the amount of activity as the double doors swung open and closed.

* * *

She unzipped her suitcase on the bed after locking her hotel room door, placing her gun, which had been strapped to her thigh underneath her dress, beside it. She pulled out the smoke grenades and pistoles, attaching the silencers and checking ammo.

'You have one hour, his speech is scheduled for 8:45, that may overrun but you'll need to be in position ten minutes before then.' Asuma's tone was light, almost distracted, Sophia knew why.

'Are you playing GTA again? During a job?'

'I have an IQ of 176, I think I can handle directing you towards your assassination target, and playing a video game.'

'People with an IQ over 140 are also typically known to be socially inept and incapable of long bouts of concentration. Turn that shit off, I don't pay you to buy video games.'

'I gotta' have something nice to myself,' he mumbled petulantly, Sophia allowed herself to smile.

'You're entitled to play within your own free time, not during the hours you're on my payroll.'

'Payroll,' he scoffed, though she knew he wanted to laugh, 'You don't pay me enough for the shit I help you get away with.'

Sophia moved to the bathroom, pulling off the hat and wig to redo her hair, slicking it back into a bun. She'd need to change into something that allowed more flexibility and would allow space her gun holsters and smoke grenades.

'I'm sorry, would you have preferred if I'd done as I was originally ordered when I tracked you down? Which - by the way - was embarrassingly fucking easy. So steady on the 'I have an 176 IQ' talk.'

'Damn, that shit hurt Fi.'

She moved back into the bedroom, opening up her IPAD to take a look at the live footage within the event room.

'I have eyes on the room,' she said, 'how long can you provide the black out for?'

'Sixty seconds before they override me, the cameras in your hallway will be a peace of cake. I'll have them on loop as soon as you're good to go.'

'Make sure nothing's traceable back to you, kiddo.'

'I'm being mentored by the greatest hitman in the country, what do you take me for? False IP address and disposing of the laptop as soon as I'm done.' She could hear the smile in Asuma's voice, it warmed her.

They lapsed into silence for the next thirty minutes as she changed. Her black leggings and long sleeved stretch lycra top was thin. Easy for her to move around in, and not too suffocating. She couldn't predict how humid the vents would be. According to the prints, her room was located above the events space, the ventilators were accessible from the fire stairwell, and ran down and across the events space all the way into the kitchen. She placed both silencers into the holsters wrapped around her shoulders. Smoke grenades packed into a small pouch at her waist.

She looked into the mirror one more time, pulling her mask down to settle at her neck, ready to pull up when the moment called for it.

'Fi, when it's done, I've estimated you'll have a ten minute window of when they realise their cameras in the halls have been compromised. Get back to your room and your belongings gathered before then.'

'Got it.' She said softly, 'I'm ready to go.'

'Annnnddddd cameras are being switched in five, four, three, two . . .'

She left her room, walking briskly by the left wall down the hall and towards the stairwell.

* * *

**Hiiii, thanks for all the alerts and follows. Gained more attention than I anticipated. I hope you all liked this chapter, it's mostly a set up for the next one, I think the next three in total will just be Sophia killing people lol. I do want to introduce Asuma properly though, he's currently my fave side character and I want to develop him properly to create a world outside of drifting, as Sophia is evidently not part of that. Also to just show the darker side of being in a mafia haha. **

**Please review if you can! **


	5. Chapter 5

_all alone she was living_

_in a world without an end or beginning_

_babygirl was living life for the feeling_

_and all the wrongs she committed _

_she was cold and she was so unforgiving_

_but i don't mind_

* * *

He'd been fixing up the rims of the Evo, suspended just to his eye level in the car lift, when the breaking news had cut through the music video that was being screened on the flat screen up in the lounge, just visible to Han. His ears perked up, and he turned his head as his eyes shifted to the screen. The City's new Commissioner had just been killed at his own ceremony.

The news reporter, a Japanese woman in her early thirties, was live at the scene outside the Hilton. Police cars and other news stations were littered in the background.

'Eyewitnesses stated that the room quickly filled with smoke - with no one being able to see who shot the Commissioner. Sources believe it may have possibly been a member of Yakuza, whom the Commissioner had publicly stated was an enemy he pledged to combat and shut down.'

'Damn,' Twinkie's voice echoed across the garage as he leant over the railing and looked down towards Han, 'don't you ever get scared of taking a joke with those boys too far? They whacked the _Commissioner _in Public.'

The corner of Han's lip curved upwards, a barely noticeable shake of his head as he continued on the Evo. 'I only deal with DK.'

'Ya'll deluded if you don't think his sensitive little ass is dangerous too.'

Han turned his head back to look at Twinkie, amusement evident in his tone. 'Why don't you get back to doing your job and leave the important stuff to me?'

Twinkie held up his hands in mock surrender, walking away from Han, who had turned back to the flat screen briefly, wondering just how she had managed to pull off such a job. She was good. Too good for someone her age, and it made him wonder who had taught her everything she knew and why she was doing any of it. Kamata had to be paying a pretty high wage for a twenty something year old super assassin to be doing his high profile jobs, or she simply owed him beyond physical numbers.

He wondered if she'd ever be up for commission the next time Dom had a job. It was evident from their last meeting she found Han irritating, but he knew there was still a level of curiosity. He'd have to give Brian a call, see if his old FBI links could pull up any info on her. People like that always had some sort of paper trail.

* * *

'Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-'

'Shut up Asuma!' Fi said, exasperated. As she placed the sunhat back on her head and dragged her mini suitcase through the halls of fleeing people, they'd put the hotel on lockdown in a matter of minutes. She needed to get out ASAP.

'You just- he was just - like _damn_ your aim is like Deadshot level good Fi.'

'Just tell me which hallway has the least officers.'

'Your second right, it'll lead to the staff stairwell and down to the lobby. Your car's waiting on the curb, but there's a HELL of a lot of commotion.'

She'd only needed one shot from her position in the vents, though she had to fire a false shot to his far left from the stage in order to startle his security. There had been more than she'd received in her report. Once it caused a little ruckus the smoke grenades had been thrown in, and voila, a bullet to his left temple as he'd been in the midst of hurrying off stage.

She changed back into her clothing, but they'd already started blocking off back exits. Making her way down the stairwell, she ran through possible scenarios in her head. She had two more clips for her silencer beneath her jacket.

'You got an armed security guy following behind you-'

'Stop!' Fi heard the echoed boom of whomever was tailing her, the sounds of his rushed steps gaining on her.

She kept going, free hand reaching for her gun as she swiftly turned to face up to him at the top of his flight of stairs. Bullet landing between his eyes. The move had been so sudden and smooth that he hadn't had time to raise his own gun, dropping out of his hand as his body rolled down the stairs.

'The cameras still rigged?'

'Another six minutes, don't worry Fi. I got you.'

If she was into that sort of thing, she would have wanted to hug him for his casual reassurances. It was weird for her to think of doing this job without him now. She entered the lobby, fixing a look of worry and panic on her face as she lightly jogged in her heels towards the exit, getting lost within the crowds as sirens and screams of panic went off. If the cameras even had been working to follow her, catching smoke would have been easier.

* * *

Fi's Maserati drove into Han's garage the next evening, it was too early for one of his parties, but a few of his favourite models had begun turning up. Skipping some of the clubs they would have gone to before his after parties. He'd had one leaning against him by the bar when he turned his head towards the roaring engine, and softly nudging her to stand up, he let her take his seat at the stool. Dragging his beer off of the bar he walked towards the railings staircase to greet Fi. His brow raised in curiosity at why she had come to his spot.

She stepped out of the car, dressed more casually this time in denim shorts and sneakers. Her hair was left out, curls framing her face and features. Light brown eyes peeking up at him through curled lashes. He wondered how many men she had convinced to do her bidding by looking at them that way. She was lethal.

'Some impressive work at the Hilton the other night.' He commented dryly, taking a sip of his beer.

She said nothing, hands resting at her sides, keys in one of them. It unnerved him that she would just do that. Stare for seconds on end without a single part of her fidgeting, he wondered whether she'd been trained in interrogation too. He only managed a few seconds of his own staring before he licked the beer from his lips, feeling bare under her gaze.

'What do you need?'

'A tyre change.'

'You don't know any other places to do such a menial task?'

'You're the only place that does it for free.'

'For free?' He probed, a smirk tugging at his lips due to the sheer gall of her request. He had never said anything was free. He got the feeling that she was never challenged, and if she were she most likely always won.

'Twink!' He called out, motioning with his head towards the Masarati when the kid peeked over the railing. 'Grab a set, it needs a tyre change.'

'Are you kidding? I _just _sat down-'

Twinkie did an obvious double take as his eyes focused on the owner of the car. Remembering her face from the first time she visited the garage, and the knowledge that she was a Yakuza member. His smile widened, and to anyone who didn't know Twinkie well, it would have been perceived as genuine. He was scared as hell.

'On second thought, that's no problem at all, happy to give this honey anything she wants.'

It was the first time Han had seen anything other than a blank stare adorn her face, and instead he saw glimpses of a slight smile begin to tug at the corners of her full lips. Amusement alight in her eyes. As if Twinkie reminded her of someone.

'With lines like that no wonder you're still a virgin.'

Han's light chuckle quickly turned into a small cough, unsure of whether he just heard Fi say that. She tossed her keys towards Twinkie, seeing his eyes widen in both amused surprise and slight offence at the comment.

'Girl, I ain't no damn virgin- yo Han tell her!'

She breezed past him, Han doing the same with a shrug of his shoulders as he followed slowly behind her up the stairs.

The bar cleared for them both as she took a seat beside him, the bartender placing a beer in front of her. Fi's eyes casted over the occupants in the room softly as she took in the slowly growing party. Han watched from beside her, the both of them knowing he was outwardly staring, for several minutes.

'Do you treat every customer like a new science project to stare at when they visit your garage?'

'Only the ones who end up in the legal custody of a Yakuza leader as a kid.' He shrugged, she still wasn't looking directly at him. 'So what's your story?'

'It's probably not so different to you bailing from your home when you were fourteen, and surfing through car jacking gangs until you started up your own.'

She turned to look him dead in eye, her head tilting to the side in a way that he assumed was playful, though none of her features indicated so. Han left out a soft chuckle. Of course she would have ran a background check on him, she must have known who he was before they'd even met.

'That's pretty invasive.'

'As invasive as your attempt to access confidential police files to find out who I am?' She took a sip of her beer, turning her face away from him to once again watch the cluster of people that surrounded the sofas and small dance floor by the DJ decks.

'Call it caution and curiosity.'

'I'll call it boredom and a lifelong habit of playing with fire.'

'DK said you were savagely blunt.' He said, his eyes remaining on her side profile the entire time. He wondered if the staring bothered her at all, he assumed she was used to being overlooked and invisible in her profession.

'You should have believed him.'

Han shrugged, swinging the stool so that he too would face the small crowds of guests. Back leaning against the bar, placing his elbows onto it for support.

'Who said I didn't?'

She briefly looked at him, but didn't answer. Taking another sip of her beer, she continued to cast her eyes across the garage, as if committing every inch of it to memory. The people that she recognised seemed to be close friends of Han's, maybe even occupants of the garage, considering there were decorated bunks on the other side. The youngest seemed to be Twinkie, a literal teenager, and his playful and doe eyed attitude slightly reminded her of Asuma. It seemed Han had a habit of taking in strays. It surprised her a little, he didn't come across as the type.

Then again, she doubted he'd believe her unofficially adopting a teenager and employing him too.

'You happen to take on jobs that aren't just for your former legal guardian?'

She had to admit, his sheer relentless pursuit of understanding her work or her was second to none. He didn't seem to be deterred by anything, she concluded - in that moment - that she could be fairly vague in what she discussed while giving him the answers that would satisfy him.

'I'm not a freelancer.'

'So you'll never consider working for your own benefit?'

"What makes you think I'm not?' She raised an eyebrow in question. 'Your automatic assumption that this is either against my will, or that I have little choice, is both ignorant and borderline misogynistic.'

The look Fi gave him this time was one of expectance, waiting for him to respond with either some form of a retraction or back peddle. He did neither, and she was enjoying it.

'Usually young, attractive, women in their twenties don't go down that line of work out of choice.'

'Are you hitting on me, Seoul-Oh?'

The use of his real surname took him off guard, and he blinked in Fi's direction before releasing a smirk.

'Maybe. I find it's a useful tactic when wanting to extract information.'

'It's actually rather juvenile.'

'Most people find it charming.' He shrugged, she didn't seem phased by the fact he leant into his left side a bit more, moving closer towards her. She turned back to him, watching the casual move.

'The only reason you're pursuing this, Seoul-Oh, is because I'm a puzzle for you to figure out. A dangerous one at that. And from your criminal record it's easy to tell that that's your hobby.'

'Maybe. Also because I think you'd be a good fit for my overseas team in future projects.'

'I don't take my work international. It becomes complicated.'

'Don't close yourself off to the options, you never know when you might need them.'

He was right, annoyingly, but she respected his persistence in whatever game he was playing. Although she wasn't sure what type of game she had inevitably joined into. He seemed unable to mind his own business, though she assumed a man of his criminal status - in the US, as well as South America - meant he had a lot of good friends. Beneficial friends. She didn't plan to live in Japan after her work was done, she actually expected to retire. If she got bored, however, she guessed that having a contact couldn't hurt.

'You make a valid point.'

'I'm full of surprises.'

* * *

**Hiiii, so yes a LOT of dialogue in this chapter, but I felt I'd dragged out a proper interaction for a bit too long here and I thought it would be best to lay the ground work for what their relationship is going to be like. **

**Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

_I flip the script like I can take a beating_

_and when you start to feel the rush_

_a crimson headache, aching blush_

_and you surrender to the touch you'll know_

_I can put on a show_

* * *

The sun beat down on Sophia's brown skin as she lay facedown on her sun lounger, the beach of Kariyushi Resort was littered with rich white families and models. Perfectly easy for her to blend in despite the private residency. She wore sunglasses as she lay her head on her hand, to anyone else she may have appeared asleep. Instead, her eyes focused on the man fifty yards from her, leaning back on his lounger, two young Japanese women sat on either side of him; one applying sun screen on his shoulders, the other allowing him to drink from her cocktail.

His security observed from the bar not far back, nursing glasses of water.

She wondered if he ever dreamt of her mother and father, or if he ever walked past faces similar to them that made him think of the man and his mistress that he had sold out all those years ago. Sophia supposed, then, that their faces blended away into nothing just like the faces of the people she had killed did. In their line of work the body count was too high to hold guilt for the rest of your life, it didn't mean she would stop hunting them though.

She'd been here for two days, waiting for him to arrive, partly for security purposes so that Asuma could gain access into the security system and cameras, but also so that she could briefly enjoy a holiday. The last time she had taken a holiday was when Kamata had travelled to Seoul and had dismissed her for the week. That was over a year ago.

Her phone rang, and without looking Sophia dug into her bag beside the sun lounger to pull it out.

'What have you got for me?'

'Family in suit next to his checked out this morning, you can prep in there. You know those suites share a private pool? What boujie ass place is this? What's he doing there?'

'Most likely a cover for any dealings he's working on, if he looks like a regular fat, married rich man hiding from his wife with models on an island hotel then it doesn't look like anything else.'

Asuma snorts, 'he's an amateur.'

'You're an amateur.'

'You can't hold the fact you tracked me down so easily against me forever, I'm sixteen. Name another sixteen year old that could hack the damn mayor?!'

A smile broke out on Sophia's lips, and as she heard Asuma begin to laugh on the other end of the line she realised how well he had come to know her. He knew she was amused, and he knew she would never let him know it. It was annoying how used to him she had become, like an annoying little brother that – under less devastating circumstances – she may have actually liked to be related to.

'I was doing some digging about that Korean dude you find hot.'

'Excuse me?' Sophia questioned after a few seconds of hesitation.

'That car dude, the one who's partnered with ya boy – I pulled up some stuff on him. Pretty recent, too. Thought you might want it on file to give to ya old man if things go too far.'

'Back up to the latter part of your original statement, what on earth would make you think I think he's hot?!'

'Please,' Asuma scoffs, 'I see every time you access the folders I sent you on him. You sure like those photos of him in Mexico, huh? Button down shirt half open, arms exposed . . . didn't think you liked skinny men. Thought you'd prefer someone with more meat who could throw you around a bit.'

If she'd been taking a sip of her cocktail she may have just spat it out. That little shit, she thought. Of course he was creeping on her.

'Watch your mouth, Asuma.'

'I mean, you know what they say though; 'a lady in the streets but a freak in the streets', you're kinda the opposite though. So maybe you like all that hearts and flowers shit in bed.'

'Asuma.'

'No, no I don't mean anything bad by it! Good on you! Go get some.'

'I'm halving your cut of this job.'

'What?!' Asuma's voice had risen, it sounded like he had stopped typing whatever it was he had been working. 'Why?! What the fuck did I do?!'

'Over stepping the mark in our relationship, hacking my computer, being unprofessional. I can continue.'

She heard him release a huff with a slight chuckle as she hung up, settling back into her position of feigning sleep while watching her target. She hadn't crossed off a name on her personal list in a couple of months, and her fingers were itching to cut off a few fingers again.

* * *

His wrists and ankles were bound to the outdoor chair he was currently forced to occupy. Blood dripping from the plastic handles and onto the floor, pool around the chairs legs. His mouth was gagged, and he breathed heavily through it as the sweat lined his forehead, dripping down his chin.

Sophia had placed him by the french doors that looked out the pool and view of the ocean ahead, she was just in his line of site, cross legged on the marble steps just below him. Playing with her knife. His severed thumbs lay on the floor by his bare feet, Fi was wondering whether she should go for his index fingers next.

'Do you recognise my face?' Fi piped up, her tone soft as the moonlight reflected the glow of her skin. She briefly looked up at him as he fidgeted in his bonds. 'No, I don't suppose you do. I doubt you remember any of the faces of those whose lives you've destroyed.'

She heard muffling from him, but had no interesting in hearing him speak. Momentarily putting down her knife, and putting her leather gloves back on, she stood. Knife in hand, dressed her signature black jeans and long sleeved top. She was beginning to overheat, though the ocean breeze cooled her slightly.

'Of course I'm a hypocrite, since I've taken and destroyed so many lives myself. I do remember all their faces, though that poses no significant meaning to their families, I suppose.'

She crouched down to stare at him at eye level, resting her hands on her knees.

'The difference is, however, that I understand the concept of 'reaping what you sow', so I won't be surprised when someone inevitably comes for me. You seem to be shocked, and I can't imagine why. We create enemies throughout our line of work, a messy end to our lives is undeniable.'

He was crying now, more than Fi would expect a member of the mafia to cry, even if he was a lower ranked member. He attempted to talk through his gag, and the sobbing, and with the roll of her eyes Fi pointed the tip of her knife to his throat. Effective in calming his tears and hushing his muffled pleading.

'If you scream, I'll cut your tongue out.'

He nodded in understanding, taking a deep breath when she pulled the gag from his mouth.

'Just tell me what you want- anything! It doesn't matter how much! Whoever's paying you, I'll double it. I'm sure you know how much I'm worth!'

'Yes, I do.' Sophia drawled, her eyes and tone flat with boredom. 'There's only one thing I want, and only you can give me it.'

'What?! What is it?! Tell me and it's yours. Please- just- just let me go and I will give it to you. What do you want?!'

She stood back to her full height, intaking a breath through her nose before she spoke firmly.

'Your life.'

She watched as his eyes begun to fill with tears, as his breathing begun to labour as he sobbed. She rolled her eyes, sighing at the dramatics of it all. He was a man in his forties, surely he was used to these scenarios, and surely he should have thought about a scenario like this happening to him in the back of his mind.

'I find it rather perplexing that men consistently refer to women as hysterical, and unable of handling their emotions . . . look at you.'

She didn't wait for him to respond as she placed one hand on the back of his bald head, readying her drip for her final blow.

'P-please . . . please- I have a family.'

She looked at him, and in that moment she almost pitied him.

'So did I.'

She drove the knife up from beneath his chin, and into his head. Gripping the back of his with her free hand in order to secure a killing blow. She pulled it out after he stopped moving, watching the blood flow from the wound and out of his mouth. It was always the most tedious part.

In the morning, after his security would find him, and the police would arrive, they'd realise that his mouth had been sewn shut. Upon peeling it open during his autopsy, they would find his missing thumbs inside his mouth. This information would be reported, and thus added to the pile of former Police Officers linked to Yakuza, and Chinese Mafia who's bodies had been discovered the same way. The Detective in charge would have to discover that this sporadic serial killer had a motive, and that they were sending a message. They were coming for people, they just couldn't figure out why.

* * *

**Hiii back again! **

**Just a chapter to focus on Sophia's personal story, intent and her drive to take down everyone on her personal hit list. Also a bit of Asuma, cause I love him! **

**Hope you enjoyed reading, please review! **


	7. Chapter 7

_with her wine stained lips she's nothing but trouble,_

_cold to the touch but she's warm like the devil, _

_I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul_

* * *

A rap song played loudly in the background of Sophia's small apartment, as she leaned back in her desk chair, lazily. Three monitors in front of her sifting through coded data information, breaking firewalls. A pocky in one hand, she sifted through a physical file of her next jobs over the next month. Kamata wanted her to hit an entire family, without noise. That took meticulous planning and analysis of all possible scenarios. Sometimes she hated how boring this fucking job was.

The place was messy, dirty dishes were piled up in the kitchen across from her, it was open planned, her living room was placed between her study area and kitchen, couches facing her windows and the view of Tokyo, slightly blocked by her television. It sounded spacious, but in reality it just about all fit. She preferred smaller homes, made it easier to keep tabs in case she had intruders, and it ended up feeling cramped instead of lonely.

The music blocked out the knocking on her door, until it got aggressive and she could feel the vibrations of it. Rolling her eyes, Sophia stood, only Takeshi had the audacity to do that. Her bare feet padded across the floorboards as she headed for the front door, pausing the music on her speakers as the banging continued. Despite her certainty on who it was, she could never be too carful. Pistol in hand, she stood against the wall, beside the door and cocking the gun.

'Who is it?' She called out, tone light.

'Open the damn door, Fi.'

'Why are you so fucking annoying?!' She ground out quietly, as she opened the door.

Only to be greeted by both Takeshi, and Han. Takeshi's hands rested on the frame of Sophia's door, a look of annoyance on his features, eyes dark. The latter of the duo stood with his shoulders hunched, hands buried in the pocket of his hoody, though he held an air of amusement about him.

'Why are _you_ so fucking annoying?!' Takeshi spat out petulantly, pushing past Sophia to enter her apartment.

Han nodded in greeting, a smirk adorning his lips as his eyes cast over Sophia's frame. She wore a tank top and just her underwear. No bra. She was at home, why wouldn't she dress in something comfortable? Sophie stared evenly, slamming the door shut behind him as she moved to stand in front of Takeshi, who now sat on her couch. His eyes scanning the guns and rifles on her coffee table in front of him.

'What do you want, T?'

Takeshi looked around Sophia's apartment, a slight curl on his lips at the state of it. Dishes were piled up in her sink, and a couple of empty pizza boxes were stacked on her breakfast bar. They stank. There was also an unopened box of Pocky that Han had eyed up. Takeshi said nothing, though, he didn't need to piss her off that much.

'We need some help.'

'With?' She folded her arms, brow raised.

'Some idiots are four payments late on their shipments, I want to collect it quietly and with the assurance that it won't happen again.'

'Do I look like your fucking errand girl?' Sophia said blandly, it scared Han how blase she always was. 'Clean up your own messes.'

She returned back to her desk chair, dropping the gun beside her computer and putting the folder back on her lap as she placed her feet on her desk, crossing one ankle over the other.

'Sophia,' Takeshi lost his look of annoyance from before, instead he looked slightly on edge, 'if Uncle finds about this you'll know what he'll do.'

Without missing a beat, and without looking up from her file, Sophia replied. 'He'll demote you and your best buddy, probably seize up all the assets you've acquired so far. Sorry.'

Han laughed, actually laughed, though nothing about the situation was funny. Her lack of empathy was what amused him. In reality, they needed her help, or they were fucked. Han had spent the better half of the year building his business, he wasn't prepared to lose it.

'Sophia, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't desperate. I'm asking you for one favour.'

'No,' she drawled, 'you're asking me to clean up your messes, petty messes. If you're unable to handle the men who work under you, then you deserve to be demoted.'

'Sophia you are so-'

'They're some of the assholes at my club that enjoy calling you a half-breed.'

Han's voice cut in swiftly, and casually. He had picked up the box of Pocky on and had leaned against the counter in Sophia's kitchen, watching the two bicker for a few minutes. They were amusing. He watched Sophia look over at him, eyes stoic and calculating. He could see her thoughts restructuring in her head, and he knew before he had even finished his sentence that it would win Sophia over. She would never say it, least of all to him, but Han knew how much she hated being called that. It made her feel inferior, inadequate. She was annoyed with him for already knowing that about her.

Sophia paused for another moment as she mulled over what Han had said. He tilted his head, smirking, waiting for a response that he knew would favour him.

'Who's car are we taking?'

* * *

A loud shriek echoed on the roof of the parking lot that races were held in. During the day, however, it was void of people and race cars, except for the business cars that parked there during nine to five business hours. The sun beat down on the open roof, and on queue another of the four men shrieked as Sophia threw him over the railing, the zip wire yanking on his ankles after a few seconds. Halting him from falling to his death.

'Now, am I going to have to cut the wire or are you going to explain why you thought you could scam my brother and his partner?'

Han made note of the 'brother' comment, he would have to ask whether Sophia had always referred to Takeshi as that the next time he irritated her into divulging information. He leaned his elbow against the railing, a packing of chips in his hand, smirking while he watched all four of his least favourite shipment distributors yell in fear. Her methods were slightly extreme, but amusing nonetheless.

'Didn't you say you wanted this done quietly?' Han mumbled, slightly afraid of of what Sophia would do if she heard.

Takeshi shrugged, not appearing to care. Though, if Han were honest, they weren't in a position to be picky about threatening methods. He also enjoyed Sophia's flare for theatrics, it made her seem slightly childish. That was funny to him.

'It was just a misunderstanding,' one screamed, craning his neck so he could look up at Sophia's face. 'we got payment dates wrong!'

Though, from their position, Sophia thought they were technically looking down, since the zip wire was wrapped around their ankles.

'Ohhh,' she drawled, 'a misunderstanding? So you're going to get your accountant on the phone and have him deliver those funds within the hour?'

'Ye-yes.' the yelling and panicked flailing had them all sounding out of breath.

'So then call him.'

Sophia played with her rings around her fingers as the four of them tried to hold onto their leader enough to steady him, and help reach for his phone which had miraculously not fallen out of his pocket. Takeshi watched them while loudly chuckling, in the times Sophia didn't make him look incompetent in front of their uncle, he did enjoy her company. There was a surface level dislike, but their childhood and lives had been wrapped in each others paths long enough that she had earned the right to call him her brother. At least, not in front of their Uncle, and with insignificant people around.

'I want my money by tonight, Tanaka.'

Where Sophia's tone had been light, but lethal, Takeshi's sounded formidable. His power lay in his tone and demeanour, whereas Sophia's lay in her reputation and actual actions. Hence why he needed her there.

Sophia ran her hand through her curls, pushing them out of her face before turning to Han.

'You're giving me a ride home.'

He saw no use in arguing with her demands anymore, and simply nodded as she lead the way to his car.

'You're welcome.' She called back to Takeshi, earning a chuckle from him.

'I owe you.' he responded, waving a hand in her direction.

'Yeah, you do.' She mumbled, opening the passenger door of Han's Mazda.

* * *

'Do you enjoy it, having people fear you like that?'

Han didn't look at her as he asked, his eyes were focused on the road in front of him, and in the rearview mirror. He also didn't sound playful when he asked, just curious. It caused Sophia to feel slightly inclined to answer, because it was one of the rare times Han behaved his age, and not like a horny teenage boy chasing the virginal church girl.

'It's a job, a job doesn't need to be joyful or boring.'

Hm, doesn't really answer the question, though?' He seemed thoughtful, as if he were trying to understand her.

'It's my job to make sure no one crosses Kamata, sometimes just hearing stories about me does that job. Do I take some enjoyment in someone recoiling when I walk in the room? A little, most of Kamata's colleagues are assholes.'

'And it doesn't get boring?'

'Does your job get boring?' She countered, slightly irritated. She was beginning to feel like he was analysing her state of mind over her role, and possibly the ethics of it.

'Sometimes, you can get quiet days - like any job - and it loses it's excitement.'

'That excitement being committing federal crimes?'

Han smiled, a genuine smiled, though he continued to focus on the road. Sophia noted that it was kind of nice, though a rarity since he loved to leer and smirk so much. She didn't know how to make that comment without Han turning it into something inappropriate.

'Can't disagree with you,' she continued, 'God knows I could never do some dead end 9 to 5, or some honourable ass shit like being a doctor.'

Han hummed in agreement, his smile fading as they descended into silence, the windows were rolled down and allowed for the sound of traffic and yelling to filter in from the streets. The heat of summer making Sophia's baby hairs stick to her sides of her head and neck, she yanked on her tank top a little, trying to get comfortable amidst the humidity. She didn't miss Han's eye quickly looking over as she did so, bra just slightly visible. He really was a teenager.

And infuriatingly charming, she hated that Asuma had pointed out her attraction towards him. Not that she hadn't noticed he was attractive before, but now she wondered about it more. Whether it was his lack of insistence in ironing his clothes, or the way he haphazardly swept his hair back. He was reckless in every sense of the word, and though it set Sophia - who's obsession with plans and control ruled her life - put her on a nervous edge, it also thrilled her. She hated hearing him speak, but she enjoyed watching him. She didn't know whether this attraction was genuine, or if it was culmination of her lack of social and sex life. She opted for not over thinking it.

Security of Sophia's complex buzzed Han's car in, allowing them through into the private car park. She had undone her seat belt before he had even parked, and shut off the engine.

'Thanks.' She said quietly, opening her door.

'No problem.'

With one foot out of the car, she made an impulse decision with that moment, and turned her head to look him in the eye.

'Do you want to come up?'

To Han, it really didn't seem like she was asking, more like demanding. In that moment, a small slither of paranoia went up his spine, as if it was this moment she'd been waiting for all day. He briefly wondered if maybe Kamata had ordered a hit on him, that he'd had enough of him and his dealings. Like he knew the side jobs he had been coordinating behind his and Takeshi's back. He then realised that Sophia was stupid enough to do something like that on her property, so he partially relaxed.

'Why?' He asked, brow risen. She wasn't the type to invite people over for coffee.

'So we can have sex.' She said matter of factly, getting out of the car and closing the door behind her. Not waiting for Han's response, she knew what it would be.

He stared at the space she had occupied mere seconds ago, reeling from what had just come out of her mouth. She had said it so . . . carelessly . . . as if it were nothing at all. It was after that thought that Han swiftly decided to get out of the car, locking it behind him. She said it as if it had meant nothing because, Han realised, it didn't mean nothing. Sophia didn't form tight bonds, Kamata and Takeshi being the exception, so the realisation that this was purely physical for her had him a little over excited.

Takeshi would kill him if he found out.

* * *

**Hiiiii **

**Sorry for keeping so many of you waiting. I noticed a real jump in faves/follows recently, and a few pleading reviews, haha. I think everyone's probably a bit over excited about the recent trailer that shows HAN IS STILL ALIVE. Which, you know, works perfectly for this story depending on how far I go into the universe. **

**Anyway, this chapter was coming for a while, Sophia and Han's relationship isn't going to be emotional based - romantically, at least - for a little while. Neither are the type, in my opinion. **

**So, if you enjoyed pleased like and review!**


	8. Chapter 8

_she was young and she was forced to be a woman_

_and I know that she's capable of anything_

_it's riveting_

_but when you wake up she's always gone_

* * *

The fat old man breathed heavily on her shoulder, attempting to whisper something charming and seductive. Sophia faked a laugh, full lips smiling widely as she feigned interest in what he was saying. She leaned into him, his arm wrapping around her waist as he signalled one of the bartenders. He'd been attempting to get her drunk all night, since she'd caught his eye at his VIP table.

Sophia hated this role, though thankfully it wasn't one she got to use often. The unassuming, dumb foreigner who was looking to have her drinks bought by any rich asshole in the club. Luckily for her, that was the exact type of woman Akatsuki Matsuda loved to cheat on his wife with. Though she didn't understand where his audacity came from, she'd seen the photos of his wife. Punching way above his weight.

'I make a lot of money, sweetheart, I could take you anywhere you want.' He slurred, free hand patting down his greying hair. Sweat dripped down the side of his face.

'You do?!' Sophia's voice was sickly sweet, her eyebrows risen, 'how?'

'You wouldn't understand, too complicated.' His hand slipped from her waist down to the small of her back. 'but it would mean that I could take you anywhere; Hawaii, Italy, Mexico.'

She placed her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. 'I've never been to Paris, I'd loooove to go somewhere romantic. A fancy hotel room, one that looks over the busiest parts of the city. Where you could see the Eiffel Tower!'

Her voice was loud, leaning in to his ear to speak, the beating music of the club drowned out everything else. She could feel the beat through the floor, and it ricocheted inside her head.

'I could take you to Paris,' he continued, 'next week, in fact.'

Their drinks were placed in front of them, Akatsuki tossed a note on the bartender without looking at him. His eyes taking in Sophia, focusing on her breast. He was disgusting.

'You'd take me so soon? But you barely know me!' She playfully slapped his shoulder, feeling his hand press into her lower back. He was taking the bait so easily.

She hated moments like this, where men who felt entitled to a woman's body invaded their space and held onto them like they were possessions. She knew, technically, that she was in control in this instance, but there would always be moments where she would feel vulnerable and exposed. Like her body wasn't hers. She couldn't wait to put a bullet between his eyes.

She played with the stringy, red strap on her shoulder, watching as his eyes moved to it. He could have been salivating at this point, or it was maybe just the sweat dripping down the rest of his face.

'Well, we could go back to my hotel room. Have a late dinner, and get to know each other a little more. I'll have my driver take you home at the end of the night.'

Bingo.

'Really?' She feigned surprise, letting her hand rest on the collar of his shirt, 'you would do that?'

'For such a beautiful flower like yourself? Of course.' He smirked, but his pupils had dilated, making him look even more of a mess. 'I have a the penthouse suite, you know? You can see the entirety of Tokyo on my balcony.'

'I'll text my roommate, tell her I'm not coming home tonight.'

His eye lit up, smirk widening. She reached for her clutch on the bar, signalling that she was about to pull her phone out.

'I'll let my driver know to pick us up from the back.' He motioned to a doorway just beyond the bar. 'Meet me there in five minutes.' She smiled in response, biting on her tongue as he placed his palm on her ass. Gripping it.

She watched his back as he walked away, waiting until he had walked through the doorway that led to the back entrance downstairs, and sifted through the contents of her clutch. Her switch blade was in there, as well as her latex gloves. Her gun was attached to her thigh holster, the metal rubbing on her inner thighs.

The skirt of her short red dress billowed out slightly, making it easy to conceal.

She texted Asuma, prompting him to disable the cameras on the street outside. Kamata wanted no tangible footage of who killed Akatsuki. Plus, she needed his DNA to plant evidence elsewhere.

'When I imagined your type, I didn't think fat and sweaty would be top of your list.'

She knew that irritating voice, it came from the lips of a man she wanted to simultaneously punch and kiss in that very moment. He'd leaned in to say it, lips barely touching the shell of her ear.

Han took Akatsuki's spot, taking his untouched glass of whisky. 'He has good taste.' He yelled, not at all subtle, but confident no one could hear.

She leaned closer to him, an edge of annoyance in her tone at his interruption. 'What are you doing here?'

Han knew what that translated to; '_why have you come to annoy me?'_

'I'm here to close a deal with the owner of the club, he's opening up to new partners.'

Sophia raised raised a brow at this, the owner - Shenji - was on Kamata's list. In actuality, he didn't own shit. Everything he had had been loaned by Kamata, and everyone knew that when you took out a loan with Kamata, you never finished paying it back. Not only that, this club was on Kamata's turf. Sophia had to hand it to Shenji, it was pretty fucking ballsy of him to be offering a piece of Kamata's property without the intention of giving him his share. Or just plain stupid.

Of course, she told Han none of this.

'You already own three clubs.'

He shrugged, 'It's nice to branch out into other territories. Besides,' his eyes focused on her, 'I'm bored.'

She knew what he meant, that he wasn't talking about work anymore. A thrill went up her spine at his words.

'I'm busy tonight.'

He paused.

'Not my place, but if you hate him touching you like that you can just turn down the job, you know that right?'

'You're right, it's not your place.' She said, tightly.

He was silent for a moment, and Sophia chose to look away. It wasn't that she was annoyed with what Han had said, she was mature enough to know it had come from a good place. It was more that even now, in a darkly lit room full of bodies, that he was able to see how the man she had spent the evening with repulsed her. Though she supposed that's what she got for actively choosing to sleep with the same man for three months, if they weren't a selfish asshole in bed, they usually learned what excited you and made you cum. Fortunately, for her, Han was in that category of men.

She also didn't like the fact that he had evidently been watching her all night, while she hadn't even sensed he'd been in the room. She was better than that.

Sophia looked down at her phone, Asuma had replied.

'_Good to go. you have fifteen minutes.'_

'I have to go,' she placed the phone back in her clutch. 'I might see you later.' She was never definitive about if or when she'd stop by. 'Don't wait up.'

As she moved to walk past him, he softly gripped onto her elbow. 'Please just don't make this place a crime scene, it's actually a good investment.'

She let out a small laugh, he sounded so whiny. She could see his grin growing out of the corner of her eye, and then he let go.

She made her way down the narrow staircase, placing the strap of her clutch on her shoulder. She waited until she reached the bottom of the stairs to pull out her handgun, it was tiny, only useful in situations like this. Where purses were searched upon entry to the club, and by Akatsuki's own security. There were only two tonight. She turned a corner, the hallway was narrow and dark. Accessible for mostly only staff and security when clearing out for the night. Of course, someone like Akatsuki would have access to it. He frequented the club while he visited the city, only this would be his last trip.

He'd been illegally selling military weaponry behind Kamata's back for some time now, though Kamata had known the entire time. For the most, he'd let him get on with it, curious to see how far he'd push his luck, for his own amusement. It always left him incredulous that so many of his former partners, or subordinates, became so bold. They'd do a few under the table jobs, unbeknownst to them that Kamata already knew, and then somehow believed that they could aim higher.

It just so happened that his trip, and Shenji pissing him off, collided at an incredibly convenient time. Who better to pin the murder on that the fool who was also cheating him out of money on his turf?

The cool air hit Sophia's skin as she pushed on the lever of the door, stepping out into the night. The alley was darkly lit, but as he promised, Akatsuki's car was there. He stood by it, the back passenger door open. He wore his long coat, arms outstretched with a particularly big smile on his face.

One guard stood at the drivers side of the door, the other at the front passenger door. Still, unmoving. As if they weren't even present in the moment.

'There she is! My beautiful flower!'

She smiled excitedly, walking towards him and raising her gun. Sophia fired at the farthest guard first, by the drivers side. Bullet landing in his eye.

As the second reeled in shock and scrambled for his own, Sophia had already pulled the trigger. He fell back onto the car behind him. Sliding down it.

In that time, Akatsuki had fallen back onto the seat inside of the car, scrambling backwards into it. He was yelling, in shock and fear. Sophia walked closer, gun raised still with that forced smile. It now looked menacing to him.

'Kamata sends his regards.' A moment of realisation took over his face, before she put a bullet between his eyes.

She knew Kamata would call her dramatic for delivering a line that way, but it brought out some satisfaction in her after having spent hours with him breathing all over her.

Placing the gun back in her thigh holster, she opened her clutch, and put on her gloves. It was time to get to work.

* * *

His watch read 5:50AM when he was jolted awake, the knocking on his bedroom door persisted as Han groaned and sat up on his futon. Only one person in the world had the audacity to continue knocking at an hour like that. He'd barely been asleep for two hours. Upon returning from his meeting with Shenji, the party in his garage had still been going on. It wasn't until around 4 that he'd made Twinkie clear them out, and retire to his room. Mostly for Sophia, she never turned up unless the place was empty of random guests. She didn't care for Twinkie seeing her.

She knew the kid was smart - and scared - enough to keep his mouth shut.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning on the door frame as he opened it.

'You actually were asleep.' She said matter of factly, expression unreadable.

'Well, you said don't wait up, so I didn't.'

Sophia didn't respond, and pushed passed him into his room. He noticed she had changed, and smelled fresher - like she'd just taken a shower. He guessed she did that to remove evidence. She now wore a faded black, oversized t-shirt, tucked into some denim shorts. Though it wasn't on for long, she pulled off her shirt, not wasting any time. Han noticed she didn't bother to wear a bra, he remembered to tell himself to savour the moment. Girls like Sophia got bored very quickly, he was on borrowed time.

Han closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it.

'You need to cancel whatever deal you made with Shenji. Do it in the morning.'

'Why?' Han rubbed at his eyes, sighing as he made the realisation, 'did you actually make his club a crime scene?'

Sophia didn't answer, and instead began pulling off her vans and socks.

'Shenji's pissed off Kamata, so he's facing the punishment. If Kamata sees your name attached anywhere near to his you can kiss everything you and T have built goodbye.'

Han was silent for several moments, long enough for Sophia to notice when she started to unbutton her shorts and look up at him. He seemed surprised that she had told him. Thankful, even.

'Alright,' he said quietly, 'I'll break it off in the morning. I hadn't signed anything anyway.' He pulled off his shirt.

'Good.' Sophia said, halting in the removal of her clothes and pulling her pistol out of the back of her shorts. She walked towards Han, waiting until he had finished removing his shirt, and placed the barrel of her gun in his mouth.

He didn't flinch.

'If you ever repeat anything I've said to you to tonight, then the next time I put this gun in your mouth I'm pulling the trigger. Got it?'

Han nodded, though a smirk overtook his face as she pulled it out of his mouth. He hadn't looked the least bit alarmed, in fact he'd looked excited.

'Now, get on your knees and take off my underwear.'

* * *

**Hey everyone! Got a few reviews and a lot of follows/favourites recently, so thanks for that! **

**Since we're in the middle of a pandemic (actually insane that I've just said that) I'm more or less confined to self isolation/lockdown - as is the rest of my family - so that means I have more time to write. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think of this, it'll pick up a bit more from now. **


	9. Chapter 9

_it's my party, my body, my business _

_it's my town, my crown and my hit list_

_it's my world and you're just living in it- _

_did I finish?_

_got bridges to burn, and places to run_

_yeah this smile is a loaded gun_

* * *

She never stayed the night, never lingered longer than she had to. When he'd wake in the morning, the space next to him would be empty. Cold. Not that he expected the opposite of any of those things, it was just new for him. It hadn't been the first 'just sex' relationship - for lack of better word - that he'd been involved in. Hell, most of the women he'd dated had always been that. Just sex.

Sophia was still slightly perplexing to him. She treated the entire arrangement like a business deal, or a meeting. Yet, for the few hours they'd spend actually fucking she was demanding, handsy. She'd exhibit a form of recklessness he didn't think she was capable of in any other avenue of her life. It was strangely hot.

Han felt smug, knowing he was - most likely - the only man to see her that way. In DK and Kamata's circles, Sophia was elusive, a ghost. Most didn't know whether she could hold a conversation, just that literally no one else had an aim with a gun like her.

A skill he had yet to personally witness.

'Han,' Takeshi kicked at the leg of his chair, motioning with his head to the Mahjong table, 'your move.'

Han was smooth when holding back any facial expressions, people saw what he wanted them to see. However he was, for the most part, pretty unfased by most things. Masking his emotions was easy when there was little he cared about.

Takeshi still picked up on the off-ness of Han that evening.

'You seem preoccupied.' He said, taking a sip of his beer. 'Have one of your models dumped you?'

Han grinned at the jibe. 'I'm just bored of always winning when I play with you. Your strategy is so sloppy you'd think you were senile.'

Morimoto snorted from his spot on the couch across, earning a look from Takeshi. He promptly returned to focusing on his gameboy.

The make-shift office space - which had originally been a storeroom in Takeshi's shop - was slim and compact. At the back was his desk, computer and safe, where he - or one of his associates - counted the books and filed everything. It was mostly for the sake of his Uncle, whom collected his percentage of earnings and files monthly. Other than that it held a small two seater couch, pushed up against the wall and a makeshift table. Where Takeshi mostly played Chinese Mahjong with friends, colleagues or clients, it served as a good mediator if meetings became hostile.

Currently, two of his female associates were at the desk. Counting that week's earning.

'Your shipments due this Friday.' Takeshi continued.

'I know,' he quipped, placing a chip in his mouth.

The distinct ringtone of Takeshi's personal phone rang, starling the mostly silent room. he pulled it from his suit pant pocket, scoffing when he read the name on the screen. Han could guess that only one person could elicit such a reaction.

'Where are you?!'

Sophia skipped the pleasantries, she didn't have time for it as she jumped another traffic light. Her vision was beginning to blur, and she swore to herself. Her concussion was bad, really bad.

'In my office, why?' He knew when times were appropriate to agitate her, and the slight panic and edge to her voice had him abandoning that.

'Remember when you said you owed me?'

The blood continued to drip from the wound on her head, down her neck and shoulders. This was why she always wore black. Her one good arm continued to dodge through traffic as she continued in the direction of Takeshi's store.

Takeshi's response was simple. 'Get your ass here. Fast.'

* * *

She burst through his office door without knocking, stumbling through as she gripped onto the doorknob. Takeshi didn't flinch, but Han and Morimoto did, for Takeshi the sight of a beaten and bloodied Sophia wasn't an anomaly.

Her jacket had been left in the car, instead the blood that covered her shoulders and chest was on display around her tank top. One arm lay limp at her side, looking out of place. The strap of a duffle bag rested on her good shoulder, she gripped it tightly.

Takeshi snapped his fingers, ordering his associates to halt their current task and leave swiftly.

'Morimoto, get the first aid kit from the bathroom.'

Han stared at the open wound by her temple, it leaked pretty alarmingly. Though it seemed like her last concern as Takeshi took the duffle and lifted her by the waist to guide her to the couch.

'I need you to do something for me.' She panted, rubbing the blood away from her eyelid. She was blinking rapidly, her head swaying. Han guessed she was concussed. 'The bag . . . it's stolen money from someone, don't worry who. I need you to get it to Kamata-'

'He'd never believe you trusted me wi-'

'Listen! In the inside pocket, there's a USB that has all the data on marked bills in Kamata's accounts with banks across the country. The asshole I was going after wasn't just a snitch, he's given them everything they need to prove he has untaxed and illegal deals."

Morimoto burst back into the room, first aid box in hand his eyes flicking from Sophia to Takeshi in panic on who he was supposed to hand it to. With a look of slight annoyance, Takeshi snatched it from him, placing it beside Sophia. He knew her well enough that she'd refuse to be treated at this current time.

'On my phone I have Kamata's accountant, he's saved under Terada. I've called him twice, but no answer. I need you to keep trying until you get ahold of him on the way to Kamata.' She handed him her phone, stained with blood. 'He'll know to erase the accounts and transfer the money overseas. Password is my date of birth.'

Sophia let out a deep breath, her teeth gritting as if she were holding onto a yell of pain.

'When you get to the club, you _demand_ to speak to Kamata alone, do you hear me? Say that I demanded it. No one else can hear this. That asshole didn't do this alone, we have rats inside. No one else - apart from us, Terada and Kamata can know this happened. When he asks why you've delivered this, and not me, you tell him that I'm interrogating the snitch for more names and that I'll be over first thing in the morning with a full report.'

Takeshi nodded, face hard. Sophia had never trusted him with something this crucial before, the panic in her eyes set him on edge.

'He- he _can't_ see me like this, T. He'll know I fucked up. I was sloppy. I wrote him off as a pussy, Kamata had me tailing him for a couple of weeks now. If he's skeptical about you delivering this, tell him to confirm with me in the morning. But do _not _speak to anyone else about this.'

Takeshi nodded in understanding, placing the strap on the duffle on his bag and her phone in his front pocket. Her eyes zeroed in on Han behind him, and then pivoted to Morimoto by the door.

'That goes for you assholes, too. If I find out you opened your mouth's - and I will - I'll pull your all your teeth out slowly.'

Morimoto merely cleared his throat and avoided eye contact as he nodded, quietly mumbling that he understood. The corner of Han's lips twitched up in the barest of smirks as he placed a chip in his mouth. She was injured and bleeding, yet still making threats as if she were the most powerful in the room. He'd come to understand that her hard headedness knew no bounds.

'Go.' She ordered, leaning back to rest her head as he eyes closed.

Takeshi stood, turning away from her to face Han.

'Fix her up, then get her back to her apartment. Lock this place when you leave.'

'Will do.' Han said, placing another chip in his mouth. It occasionally annoyed Takeshi how unbearably unbothered Han always was by everything, as if it would all work out just fine.

Takeshi strode over to his desk, grabbing his car keys, and tossing them to Morimoto. 'You drive.'

'Remember what I said, T.' Sophia lifted her head back up. 'Talk to no one else about this.'

He nodded, hand on the door as he asked one question.

'The snitch . . did he get away?'

Sophia choked out a laugh, shaking her head at him. 'He's currently in the boot of my car. He stopped breathing a long time ago.'

'Did you get the all the names?'

'Pretty quickly, he cracked after I ripped out the first finger nail.'

Sophia's tone was dark, distaste for a man who was cowardly enough to rat out both sides was pretty bottom of the barrel. In her opinion.

Takeshi could have left it there. He could have nodded and simply left, privately thinking about just how sick her methods of torture were. Though, he'd had the luxury of never having to learn such methods. They had both grown up in the care of Kamata, but for Sophia it had come with a price.

'Get cleaned up. I'm gonna' need you in the morning.'

Takeshi closed the door behind him as he followed Morimoto out. Sophia turned back around to Han, a small smile adorned her lips.

'He can be sweet, sometimes.'

Han said nothing, placing the half empty packet of chips back on the gaming table, and moved towards Sophia. He crouched in front of her, taking in the still wet blood on her chest, sweat mixing into it.

'You're getting paler.' He said flatly, reaching for the first aid box.

She ignored him, instead addressing the fact that was staring at the blood she was covered in. 'It's not mine.'

He hummed in response, opening the kit and reaching for the bottle of anti-septic.

'No,' she wheezed. 'I need you to pop my shoulder back into place first.'

Han complied, putting the box back down and taking hold of her right arm. It wasn't his first time doing so. Hell, he'd had to pop his own arm back in a few times after some car accidents. She barely let out a grunt as he did so, and simply let her head loll back to rest.

He reached out to check her pupils, noting how dilated they were.

'You can't sleep.' He stated quietly, once again reaching for the first aid kit. 'You've got a pretty nasty concussion. I'm gonna need you to hold out for a little while.'

She was silent for the longest time, long enough that he thought she had completely ignored him and fallen asleep anyway. He moved to sit beside her as he worked on cleaning up the wound on her temple.

'Didn't realise you were a medic.'

Her tone was soft, though the teasing was present. Her eyes remained closed.

'You pick up a few things when you live this sort of life.'

'That's true.' She mumbled softly.

'Do you always make this much of a mess during a job?'

Another few moments of silence passed, Han nudged her chin softly to rouse her. 'Hey, stay awake.'

'You're so damn talkative tonight, can you just let me rest?'

Her eyes were closed, so she wouldn't have seen him roll his own in that moment.

'You can barely walk, your pupils are dilating and I'm still tryna' stem the bleeding in this head wound. If you fall asleep you risk a seizure. I'm sure you know this.'

'I've had worse, Seoul-Oh. I'll be fine. It's cute that you care, though.'

They lapsed in silence after that, since there wasn't much else he could say. She was probably right, someone in her line of work was bound to have suffered much worse than a concussion. He'd just rather not have something happen to her while technically under his care, he didn't want to be held accountable for the wellbeing of Kamata's favourite child. Words he'd heard from DK's own mouth.

When he'd taped a small gauze pad to her wound, he let her be for a while. Returning the cash on Takeshi's desk back into the safe, and clearing up the account books to place them back into the drawer in the desk.

He wondered about the body in her boot, and how long she usually took to get rid of them. If she did at all. He couldn't leave her car in the alley with it in her boot, and he doubted he could keep it in her parking lot either. He'd worry about that later, though. First, he had to get her back to her apartment.

* * *

**Hiii, **

**Just a bit of a filler as I work on the next few parts. I want to bring in Asuma a little more, so I'm figuring out how to do that. **

**Thanks for more of the follows and faves! Glad everyones enjoying and I hope everyones safe during their lockdown!**


	10. Chapter 10

_you gotta have fun_

_but when you're done you gotta be the first to run_

_wear your heart on your cheek_

_but never on your sleeve_

_unless you want to taste defeat_

* * *

That morning, when Sophia awoke, the first thing she did was check the clock on her nightstand. It read 9:00AM, not a total disaster for someone who spent the night before beaten up and bloodied. She knew she'd still make it in time for a meeting with Kamata, though she knew he'd have an aura of disappointment surrounding him once she'd confirmed the information that Takeshi had delivered.

She hated being a let down, and Kamata had never taken failure lightly, even if Sophia was technically an exception to that rule he'd emphasise his displeasure across his entire face. If she racked up enough botched jobs she didn't think he'd stop letting her get away with it, either.

The catch about being his favourite hitman, and effectively a prodigy, was that you so rarely fucked up it looked _really_ bad when you did. Sophia's record was near perfect, in fact, she wondered when she had officially repaid her unofficial debts to Kamata - which was the millions he had thrown away getting her trained in combat by the best in Japan, as well as sending her to private school - and fulfilled her own goals, whether she'd probably make a good living out of being a global hitman.

Sophia wasn't being arrogant, she knew she was the best in Japan. She hadn't been given the nickname Shinigami for no reason, despite the complete unoriginality of it.

She'd found a small piece of paper by the clock when her sleep had faded and her eyes had adjusted to the light in the room. The handwriting was poor, as if it had been haphazardly scribbled. Only one man in the world would have penmanship as lazy as the rest of his personality.

_took care of the trash in your trunk_

_make sure you__ get some rest_

_H _

He'd left her car keys beside the note, and she could only assume by 'trash' that he meant the actual body she had left in there. For several moments Sophia felt nothing but surprise, and didn't exactly know how she should react to this. By his own volition, and completely unsolicited, he had disposed of the body. Making that sort of move wasn't something you just did, in Fi's opinion. Apart from Kamata, she had never shifted a body for anyone else before. That being said, she didn't have friends to do so for them.

But her and Han weren't friends, they weren't anything really. He was someone she had sex with, and it was good sex, but that was all. He didn't cross her as the type to generate feelings for girls. And yet, he had still done it.

It confused her. Leaving a weird lightness in her stomach that she didn't recall ever feeling for someone before. Was she touched? Perhaps.

The only other person she could ever imagine doing something like that for her was Takeshi, but most likely out of moral obligation to her and Kamata, or on direct orders.

She pushed the thoughts aside, deciding the deal with Han later. For now, she had to go and talk to Kamata.

* * *

To Sophia's surprise, Kamata hadn't been disappointed at all. In fact, when she arrived, collecting her phone from Takeshi and dismissing him from Kamata's office, he had nothing but pride on his face. A small smile had twitched at the corner of his lips, effectively staying there for the rest of the morning. Dark eyes glinting as he had looked at both adults.

Takeshi had made quick work of getting Kamata's accountant to remove all marked bills, and he informed his uncle in a professional manner, after everything had been done. There wasn't any need for Kamata to do anything, he was just merely letting him know.

Kamata was impressed. Both with his nephew, and with his adoptive daughter's collaboration with him. The two hadn't gotten along that much when younger, and in the past they mostly kept a distance professionally unless Kamata forced Takeshi into assisting Sophia. They had both done this of their own volition, and it seemed to have worked seamlessly. He didn't know whether they were spending more time together, or whether Sophia had a particularly good influence on his nephew, but he was pleased with their current result.

'I'm just glad you are well.' He said gruffly, lighting his cigar as he stood to place a hand on Sophia's shoulder.

He squeezed it, and a softness in his eye when he looked at Sophia emerged. It was one of the rarer times he felt remotely fatherly to her, a look that had lessened as she had gotten older, and colder.

Warmth spread through her chest at it, and she nodded in thanks to him, before taking a seat opposite his desk. Mostly he wanted to know how she was, and focused on that before she delved into the information she had gotten out of the rat. He had given her four names, all other informants that Kamata wasn't entirely surprised about, but visibly irritated with. It was troublesome having to quell small pockets of uprisings within the organisation, which had become slightly more frequent within the past couple of years.

He hadn't become senile, or lax with his commands, but Kamata had surmised that subordinates got bolder with him growing older. As if his power would loosen and effectively become vulnerable for the taking, when really the opposite had happened. With age came wisdom, and the ability to learn from mistakes, Kamata's position as the Yakuza head had become an iron grip, and with that the power of his immediate circle also grew. Sophia, for instance, wasn't even in the prime of her career.

She would continue to excel, become more deadly, and he didn't doubt that one day small countries would bid for her abilities. He knew that Sophia was aware of this, but yet remained humble, she never dared step outside the lines of which he had set, when in reality she probably could have a very long time ago. Her loyalty to Kamata was unmatched, and for that - as well as many other reasons - he loved her the way he would love his own child.

'I want you to make an example out of them.' He said casually, smoke escaping from his lips. 'I want it to be common knowledge, what you did to them. Make it as gruesome as you like.' He waved off. 'Make it painfully obviously what happens when you betray me.'

'Yes, sir.' She bowed her head in understanding.

He was dismissive in the way he said it, and it made his order so much darker that she truly did not understand why anyone would be stupid enough to cross Kamata in the first place. She was deadly, but a man who was willing to watch you have your skin peeled from your body by his own orders, just to prove a point, was deadlier.

* * *

Han's garage was quiet throughout the weekdays, since many of his crew were high school students, it made for a relatively peaceful day where he simply just worked on his personal cars. Currently, he was working on what Twinkie liked to call the Mona Lisa. It was a name that Han found amusing, yet endearing, since he was currently building her from scratch. The chipped dull grey metal was the only colour that cloaked the vehicle, which was something he would work on last when the job was almost done.

For now, Han worked on the engine; his favourite part. He was currently laid out on a creeper trolly, ducked beneath Mona. His legs the only visible part of him should anyone come in, and it was the first thing Sophia noticed as she walked to the end of the line of vehicles in their car lifts. The near silence in the garage, save for the radio he had on in the background, took her aback. Apart from the dead of night, when people were asleep, she hadn't thought his place could be this quiet. Then again, she never visited during the day. This was a first for her.

He noticed her all white nike's soon enough, especially since they were pristine. Han remembered that she kept an extensive and perfect sneaker collection in her apartment, and that she was somewhat anal about avoiding creases in them.

Sliding out from beneath the car, he lay there for a moment looking up at her with a lazy smile. Han wanted to make a stupid comment about how she had legs for days, because truly, she did. Her skin was exposed due to the white ribbed mini dress she wore, with thin straps that made him wonder how easily it'd be to slip off her shoulders. Her curls had been left out, a few strands partially covering the newly replaced gauze on her forehead, face void of any make up. With the sneakers, it made it look like a casual put together.

She rolled her eyes at his grin and his poor attempt to look up her dress from that angle, and placed a hand on her hip.

'There is literally a heatwave going on outside, and you chose to stay in here working on this piece of junk?'

'This piece of _jun__k _will soon be the prettiest son of a bitch at the races.' Han said nonchalantly, standing and wiping his hands of grease with the cloth he kept in his back pocket.

He looked at her expectantly. 'So why have I earned a day visit from you?'

'I want to talk about what you wrote in that note you left me this morning.'

He nodded, knowing she would eventually probe him over that. He guessed he may have been slightly out of line in doing something as bold as that, though she didn't look angry. Frankly she was as neutral, in the way that constantly made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Honestly, he thought he was doing her a favour, and believed she knew that. Though he also wouldn't be surprised if she was suspicious of his actions. They weren't business partners, or friends, and the fact they slept together frequently also didn't mean that there was an obligation for him to do it. He just did it.

Han motioned with his head toward his small office, just across from Mona. Knowing it was conversation she wouldn't have out in the open. His office was located on the ground floor with the cars, something he had had installed beneath the concrete of the floor above, so was a relatively low ceiling. That didn't bother him, the only time he was in there was when he was looking over the books at his desk.

Sophia followed, walking into the compact office as Han closed the door behind her. She folded her arms, taking in the small and dimly lit room. Tools lined the wall directly opposite her, though she couldn't say she knew what they were, since she didn't care for mechanics. She left that to Takeshi and Han, even Neela.

He circled his desk, relaxing into the chair, watching as she remained where she was. Arms folded, eyes assessing the office with a calculated look in her eye, as if she were garnering any information on him that she could from the office, and storing it away in the folder labelled 'Han' in her head. He supposed that was why she was so brilliant.

'Ask away.' He said, tone light as he pulled a packet of chips out from the drawer at his desk. Chewing slowly.

'What did you do with the body?'

To the point, as always, he thought.

'I burned it.'

She unfolded her arms, moving to place both hands on his desk and lean towards him. Eyebrow raised in both curiosity and surprise.

'What about his teeth?'

'Individually discarded into the water by the docks, that was the easy part.'

She was mildly impressed, if a little surprised.

'What about his finger nails? Hair follicles? Anything left in my car?'

A smirk pulled at the corner of Han's lips, knowing she was impressed. He knew she thought he didn't have it in him.

'Relax, I got rid of my own clothes. Also, you evidently didn't take in the smell of your car. I had it cleaned before you woke up. Trunk and all.'

Sophia hm'd in response, eyes moving away from him to stare at a random spot on his desk.

'What? You thought this was my first rodeo?' He joked, popping another snack in his mouth.

She didn't respond, and instead looked back to him with an amused glint in her eye. Though she also seemed a little confused.

'Why did you do it?'

Han shrugged, 'you'd had a rough night, thought you could do with some help.'

It was no big deal, he told himself. It didn't mean anything.

Sophia was silent for a long time, which would have made any other man nervous. Han had become accustomed to her long bouts of silence while simultaneously staring at him. She was always thinking, always trying to figure things out, uncover some ulterior motive. He didn't really know what it would take for him to prove to her that there wasn't always a deeper, shady reason for his actions. So, he just let her do it, waiting patiently until she spoke again.

'On Saturday I have a function I need to attend. It's in the early evening, high security. I need a date for cover, so wear something nice.'

Han halted mid-chew of his snack, dark eyes focusing on hers as he registered exactly what she was asking of him. Or demanding. He realised, that in her moment of silence, Sophia had come to a decision about him. Somehow, though completely unintentional, his choice to dispose of the body for her had made him pass some sort of test with her.

Other than last night, which was more of a force of hand for her, Sophia didn't talk about her jobs. She mostly let Han voice his assumptions to her and she never confirmed nor denied anything to him. She never openly said that she killed people for a living, but now it seemed as if she were offering him a front row seat to that. He realised that she trusted him now, and for some reason that made him feel pleased. _Too_ pleased.

'Okay.' He said simply, keeping his tone casual.

She nodded, standing to full height again. Circling the desk, Sophia then sat back against it, crossing one leg over the other. His office so compact that when she did, her legs made contact with his knees. She didn't miss how his eyes followed the hem of her dress, which was riding up her thighs.

'Don't intervene like that again,' she said steadily, 'I don't need you cleaning up my messes.'

Han discarded the finished packet in the bin beside him, raising a brow at her.

'I saved your ass when you were unconscious. Where's my thanks?'

Sophia tilted her head, eyes heated as she looked at him and uncrossed her legs.

'I'm not wearing any panties, isn't that thanks enough?'

Of course, he had noticed that there was no panty line underneath a dress like that, nor a bra. He'd been thinking about it since he looked up to find her hovering by his car, and she knew that. He enjoyed it when she tempted him like that.

'That was for me?' Han titled his head, sitting up and sliding his chair closer to her, until she was forced to part her legs for him, a knee on either side of him.

She didn't answer, instead, she leaned down towards him, lips hovering dangerously close to his as his fingertips grazed the inside of her thighs. It was driving her insane.

'I've never been fucked on a desk before.'

Han released a small smirk, letting his fingers tread further between her thighs, hearing her hiss as he teasingly felt just how wet she was. He was smug about eliciting this sort of reaction from her.

'Let's rectify that.'

She said nothing more, and impatiently yanked on the front of his shirt to pull him up and crash her lips onto his. God, she was lethal.

* * *

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the slow update, I've been working on other stuff that I've had on hiatus and also started a new fic cause I'm dumb! **

**Thanks to paulavara140, lady finwe, rochoodx, momochan77, twibe and all the guests who reviewed! **

**I read a comment about how a reader hope Han and Sophia manage an actual/emotional connection, and what I have planned for tokyo drift - I'm definitely aiming to make it more emotional and stable as I go, but I'm currently working on making that happen organically, especially as Sophia has lots of things she prioritises over seeing him. I hope that's starting to come through as I effectively started 'planting the seed' for that in the last chapter. Also, tokyo drift is still a little way off, but that's mostly because I want to develop Han, Takeshi and Sophia as a friendship unit, which again I hope was coming through. In the movie, Han and Takeshi have glimpses of a happy friendship but it's doused out pretty quickly. I never agreed with that personally and wanted to make the ultimate demise of their agreement/friendship a little sadder by adding a bit of backstory there.**

**Also, guess I should change the rating of this fic to M, since it may get a lil' smutty haha **

**Thanks for reading! **


	11. Chapter 11

_don't want you in my bloodline_

_just wanna have a good time_

_not tryna' make you all mine _

_ain't no need to apologise_

_but you just gonna' have to let this shit go_

* * *

If Sophia could put assassin down on a resume, then she would have been 'sniper' at the top of her key skills from the role. She didn't know why she was so good, it had just so happened that when she'd started receiving training for it, thanks to Kamata hiring a retired army vet, that she was particularly talented with the weapon.

Maybe it was because it required copious amounts of concentration, and a calm head in order to focus your gaze so well, which she had both of. Growing up, Sophia had always been a quiet kid, she was always overthinking and observing people. Sophia didn't doubt that it was probably due to the trauma of what she had witnessed, too, but her resolve had been strong since Kamata had promised her revenge.

It was also something she could do from a distance, so she never needed to get involved or devise a complex plan to infiltrate a gathering or building in order to kill her target. A piece of cake, in her opinion.

Currently, she was on the roof of an apartment complex, bored out of her mind as she looked through her binoculars. Her target didn't seem to be home yet, which was way off of her schedule. She needed some time later to look into a lead about her parents murders, apparently word of what she was doing had officially reached Chinese mafia, and she believed it would have pushed some members into giving out names due to fear or personal vendetta.

The apartments opposite her had floor to ceiling windows, something she personally hated. It felt overly exposed, and like anyone would be up in your business if you forgot to close the blinds. How did blinds even work in that situation?

Though this wasn't something she should complain about, it made her job easier.

She had researched the architecture of the building a couple of days ago, and the thickness of the glass. Her sniper bullets were 20mm, enough to pierce it. So she had to be fast, and accurate. The sniper currently rested on a stand in front of her, she was laying face first on the concrete, propped up by her elbows as she continued to look through her binoculars. This was the most tedious part of the job, waiting for a target to arrive.

Sophia was shooting from a building that was far enough to make it difficult for the cops to distinguish which direction, and which building, the bullet had even come from. As a precaution though, she had Asuma erase the security footage of all the buildings in that block. He definitely needed a raise, especially since his seventeenth birthday was approaching. Maybe a gift too, only she didn't know what you got a seventeen year old who was such a good hacker that he could probably illegally acquire anything he wanted - if he was reckless enough.

It was strange how she had known the boy for almost two years now, the kid was such a unbearably annoying and persistent fixture in her life that it felt like he had always been around. Like a baby brother, though she'd never tell him that, he'd gloat about it.

Through her binoculars, she could see the front door open within the apartment, and the tall figure of the man walk in. He matched the photos Kamata had provided her with, though he looked slightly more dishevelled in real life. Relatively young looking, though rugged, she decided he was attractive. It was a shame he had pissed her boss off.

She had no idea what he'd done, and didn't particularly care either. This was a paid for service, someone else had put in the hit for him, and Sophia was getting a pretty good sum out of it due to her 70% cut. Maybe he'd screwed over a politician.

Putting down the binoculars, she pulled the sniper towards her, adjusting her grip and it's placement against her shoulder. She closed her right eye, the left looking into the scope of her weapon. As her gaze got used to it, and focused on her target, she followed him around in his apartment. Watching as her threw his mail onto the island counter in his kitchen, and moved towards the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of beer, from what she could see, and his feet shuffled from the kitchen into the living room. His place was a mess.

The man halted as he bent to pick up a remote, switching on the tv. Now was her chance.

As he stood there, taking a swig of his beer, and sweeping through the channels, Sophia inhaled. Her mind muted the sound of traffic and yells from people down below, turning into a low hum that reverberated through her body and eventually die down. In her mind, everything was silent, her mind was at peace.

Exhaling, her finger gripped onto the rifle a little tighter, and she lined up her shot to the back of his head. Sophia pulled the trigger.

* * *

With her hair tied, and pulled back from her face, Sophia lounged in her desk chair. Nursing a black cup of coffee, which was almost lukewarm now, she stared at her computer screen. Her watch read 3AM, and her bloodshot eyes blinked away the tiredness as she rubbed them, after suffering a nightmare she decided to abandon sleep for now, and go back to her original task.

The faces she flitted back and forth of was from a list she had previously received from a source within the Chinese police force. Currently it was a collective folder of all the recently incarcerated Chinese mafia members within east Asia. It usually amounted to nothing, but occasionally Sophia recognised a face and it was easier to get to them if they were imprisoned in Japan or South Korea; her committing a crime in China was too risky for her liking, considering both countries current political tenseness.

In the last three years, hired work aside, Sophia had killed twenty members of her own personal list, and she was hoping it had gained traction. Considering she had a very distinct mark she left when killing them, she wasn't all that surprised when the Japanese police force had launched an investigation only a year into the killings. She was surprised, however, that the Chinese mafia had only just decided to take an interest.

Her source in the Chinese police force had informed her that they were aware, but not concerned. As far as they were concerned, it was merely criminals picking each other off, and not doing it on their own soil. So they didn't entirely care. She knew that would change though once she started killing any members from them, though. When Sophia really thought about it, she knew she was on borrowed time. You couldn't make as much noise as you did with something like this, and not expect the FBI to be hot on your heels. It's why she tried to minimise the damage by keeping her work mostly in Japan, she didn't want Interpol getting involved.

She clicked through the mugshots absentmindedly, sipping on her coffee, before she did a double take. Her fingers had been fast, and gone past him, and as she sat forward to go back to his photo, her face leaned in.

He was exactly how Sophia remembered him, except age had interfered. His hair was shorter, and she remembered that on that night it had been almost to his chin. Before, his face was void of any facial hair, but now there was a faint beard. The same scar went down the left side of his face, from his eye to his cheek. Sophia had remembered feeling dread when her eyes had caught onto it.

Clicking onto his name, she read the file. He was currently in a South Korean prison on drug charges, though minor, his lawyer had decreased his sentence. Six months. She wondered if he would be allowed back in the country after that, but decided she didn't care.

Something crept into her, in that moment, and it wasn't anger or a need for violence. It made Sophia feel small, and her memories forced itself to the forefront of her mind. Replaying the events of that night in HD.

He had been smiling when he cut her mother's throat, and his eyes had remained connected with Sophia's as he had done so. Trying to elicit a reaction from the child. She had stared in horror, but no scream had left her lips, no tears had fallen. He had been impressed. Though the pain was evident within her eyes, clear as a summers day, she had steeled herself. He had wondered if that had been the teachings of her father. Whom he had - in all honesty - some respect for.

Sophia didn't know why he chose to spare her life that day, maybe it was pity, maybe it was boredom, but he did.

She remembered him walking towards her, as the rest of his men had exited the apartment. He had crouched down to her, where she sat on the floor, hugging her knees. Her fathers blood had splattered on her pyjama shirt and face, from when he had shielded her from bullets. The man had made sure he was eye level, his eyes curious and playful. Young Sophia had realised how much he had enjoyed everything he had done that night.

'When you're older,' he had said, and paused for a moment as he leaned in closer to her face, 'I'll be waiting.'

He'd left her with those lasting words, and they had etched themselves into her memories so clearly that it were almost the equivalent of having a tattoo. It was permanent, and had fuelled Sophia all her life.

As she stared at his face now, she realised her held the same expression as back then. Smug. An aura of superiority that was not unwarranted, a promise that he would make scream and beg. It was haunting to her.

The cellphone on her desk vibrated indicating that someone was calling. Without looking, she picked up the phone, answering the caller as she stared at the face on the screen. Only people she knew well would call at an hour like this.

'Hello?' Her voice was distant.

'So when you said I had to dress smart for this thing, did you mean a suit? 'Cause that isn't really my style.'

Han's tone was casual, and contained no seriousness to it as her mind refocused on the present. This was what he had called her for?

'No, it does not have to be a suit.' She said tiredly, running a hand down her face. Though she was amused he had been thinking about it. 'No cargo pants, and no sneakers. It's a rooftop party, some type of launch. So at least wear a blazer.'

'So sneakers are an absolute no go?'

'Yes Han, sneakers are an absolute no go. No polo shirts, either.'

'Do we have to match?' He asked amusedly.

If Han could see her face right now, he would have laughed at her incredulous expression.

'No we do not have to match.' She said exasperatedly. 'This isn't fucking prom.'

She heard him chuckle on the other end, and then noticed the background noise. Sophia guessed he was standing a little aways from the guests in his garage, the music and chatter was muffled. Why was he asking about this in the middle of a party?

'Is that all you called me for?'

'I didn't actually expect you to be awake at this time.' He deflected, tone returning back to its casual tone. 'Usually if you are you're either out on a job, or in my bed.'

She started to suspect that this may have been a booty call.

'I was just doing some work.' She said, 'I couldn't sleep.'

Han paused for a few seconds too long, it made Sophia feel slightly on edge. It was the sort of silence he went into before asking invasive questions about her and her life. She wondered if he had detected anything in her tone, if he knew she wasn't entirely telling the truth. Not that she was obligated to to begin with, he wasn't her boyfriend or friend.

'You okay? You sound off.'

There it was. A casual question, thoughtful even, but Han never asked anything like that simply out of the goodness of his heart. Or maybe he did, and she was just being unfair about him. He had already proved her wrong once before.

'I'm fine.' She responded, attempting to make her tone casual. 'Did you wanna' come over?'

She didn't think he'd say yes after she brushed off his question, usually when he realised he wasn't wanted or welcomed he'd take the hint and mind his own business. Han surprised her this time, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

'Sure, I'll be over in a half hour.'

'See you then.'

Sophia hung up the phone after that, returning back to stare at the man on her screen as she thought about his sentence. That was enough time to set up a spy for her through her South Korean links, and find out whether anyone else was after him. She wanted to be the first person that got to him once he was released, and if she was meticulous enough she could probably do that. She'd need to give Asuma a call in the morning.

* * *

Han could tell from the moment that she started kissing him that something was off. Hell, he'd been able to tell from their phone conversation. He didn't know why he had called her, just that he wanted to. His party had been in full swing, a model had been sat on his lap, and he hadn't been able to help himself. He wondered what she was doing in that moment. So he'd stepped away to give her a ring.

He expected her to be a little more annoyed at his question. To call it dumb and tell him that he was wasting her time, except she'd only seemed to be mildly annoyed. Her voice had been slightly distracted, empty even.

Now, as his fingers delved under her tank top and grazed her stomach and hip, he felt the tenseness in her body. Her lips slanted on his the way that they always had, her mouth heated and hungry in that way that always drove him crazy. But her grip as she pulled at his shirt lacked the fervour she usually had, and she didn't arch into him the way she usually did when she wanted him to touch her more aggressively.

Moving his hands from her waist, Han placed them on her shoulders, pushing her back softly.

'Okay wait. Stop.'

Sophia's eyes narrowed in confusion, but she did as he requested. Taking a step back, she looked up at him. Even in the dark, with her dishevelled hair tied back and in a baggy tank top and shorts, he wanted to fuck her brains out.

'Something's . . . off with you.'

'What do you mean?' She folded her arms, head tilting in annoyance as she waited on a response.

'You know exactly what I mean. It's like you're upset about something, or worried. You're not _you.'_

'Because you know me so well?' She said pointedly, and Han rolled his eyes at her childishness.

'I know you well enough to know how you usually act when we're having sex, and I could tell it on the phone.'

Sophia rubbed at her eyes, seeming exasperated, and looked back at him. He sensed the distrust in her eyes, she always looked at him that way when he was being serious about something. As if she didn't believe he was capable of being serious about something that didn't benefit him. It irked him.

'I just couldn't sleep, and it's almost four in the morning. That's all.'

'You do realise it's perfectly okay to admit when something bothers you, right? You do realise a stable person can do that from time to time?'

She fixed him with a gaze that was so angry that he was willing to bet it made most men squirm under it. He didn't, though.

'Why would I ever admit that something is wrong to you?'

For the first time, probably ever, Sophia watched as Han's brows knitted together in annoyance. She didn't think she had _ever _seen him annoyed. His hands dug deep into his pockets, and though his tone was still mostly casual, there was an edge to it that hadn't been present before. Ever.

'I'm a fucking asshole, and we are friends. I'm not exactly going to tell you to shut the fuck up if you have shit going on or if you need help. I'm also not always just thinking about myself.'

Of course he knew all her preconceived opinions about him, she sometimes forget that he was an intelligent man. Annoyingly so. It was just that he spent so much saying stupid shit, or behaving as if he didn't care for anything that she naturally would forget about it. She didn't miss what he had said, that he called her a friend, and it wasn't something that she'd considered him before. She felt guilty at that. In any other scenario, she would have called bullshit on this act, but the slight crack in Han's demeanour had her second guessing herself, and everything she had known about him. He seemed genuine in this moment, if not a little hurt at what she had said.

'Let's try this again.' He said, breaking their silence. 'What's wrong with you?'

Sophia stared at him, annoyed that he sounded like a parent speaking to a petulant child. She didn't know what else to do, though. She could have told him to get out, only she found herself reluctant, a small part of fearing he'd probably not speak to her again if she did. She ran a hand over her face, a sigh escaping as she decided on telling him as little of the truth as possible.

'I couldn't sleep because I had a nightmare about the night my parents were murdered.'

She didn't tell him anymore than that. She wasn't obligated to, and it wasn't necessary. If she included details, Han would get curious, and when he got curious he asked far too many questions. This part of her life was too complicated, and too personal. It was weird to share this sort of thing with him, but he had been the one to say they were friends. He didn't need to know that she was scared to close her eyes in case she saw the face of her parents' executioner in full detail, reliving that moment.

'Do they happen often?' He eventually asked, once he realised that that was all she'd voluntarily give him. Han had come to realise that she had an protective wall so high that she doubted she'd ever let it down before.

Sophia shrugged, 'no . . . yes . . . I don't really keep track.'

He nodded, and they stood there in silence for minutes as he stared at her and she him. As if either one was unwilling to make the next move, unsure of what the next move should even be.

Eventually, Han withdrew his hands from his pockets, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face. He looked at the TV to his right, motioning to it with his head.

'Put something on, I'll make us some coffee.'

Sophia didn't really know how to respond to that. His voice had gone back to it's usual casualness, face setting back into it's neutral relaxed expression, as he moved to the kitchen. He didn't wait for an answer as he grabbed her kettle, and she was almost thankful for it.

Sophia didn't have friends, Takeshi or Asuma had never really counted in her eyes due to how they had met or the things that tied them together, so this was new for her. She settled into the couch, turning on her television to go to Netflix. She sat in silence as she put on a sitcom, and listened to the sound of Han moving around in the kitchen behind her. The entire thing was so incredibly mundane and normal that it scared her a little.

* * *

**A lot of this was unplanned in terms of plot, but I really like how it ended up. I thought fitting a scene between the last chapter, and the one coming up next would help bridge the shift in their dynamic and also add more context to Sophia's quest for revenge. I want her trauma to be explored a little and not always have her be angry and vengeful. **

**Thanks for the review binkleys23, and to the guest who reviewed! I'm also hoping to salvage her and Kamata because I really like them as a father-daughter dynamic. Stick with me on Takeshi's storyline, it's not going to be huge but hopefully it just makes him more of a well rounded character. **


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